


Hear Us Roar

by BlackAngelis, House_of_the_Lion



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Beautiful Golden Fools, Drama, F/M, Incest, Lannisters in power, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackAngelis/pseuds/BlackAngelis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_of_the_Lion/pseuds/House_of_the_Lion
Summary: On her deathbed, Joanna makes Cersei and Jaime promise to love and protect Tyrion, and the lions roar together as they enter the game of thrones.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Cersei Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister
Comments: 24
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born out of a very simple question: what would have happened if Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion had been welded together instead of tearing each other apart?
> 
> This is a complete rewrite of the series that will put the Lannisters in the spotlight (so if you don't like this family, you may have come to the wrong place).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prologue was written by BlackAngelis.

Something was wrong.

Cersei and Jaime Lannister realized this when they saw the unrest in the castle and in the eyes of their septa, with whom Father had ordered them to stay before running away.

This simple, yet seemingly harmless act had made them frown at exactly the same moment - they were not twins for nothing, after all.

Father _never_ ran.

It was the rest of the world running when Father arrived, a proud lion piercing the sheep with his emerald gaze, the rest of the world stumbling, jostling, bowing, the lions didn't need to run, it wasn't worthy of them, they were stronger and more powerful than the other animals. This was one of the first things he had taught them when he had caught them chasing each other in the corridors of the castle.

Cersei and Jaime had not listened to him, of course. Mother had stroked their hair before kissing them on the forehead and advising them to have fun while they still could.

(Of course, the twins were still far too young to take the true measure of this sentence, to understand that they could not remain carefree children forever).

Father had caught them running many times since then, but he had always let it go because Mother had asked him to and he wouldn't deny Mother anything - it was something Cersei and Jaime had quickly realized and had not hesitated to use on several occasions.

However, by that day, any desire to have fun had completely deserted them.

Something was wrong.

With tacit agreement, they took advantage of a second of inattention from their septa to sneak out of the room.

"Do you think it's because of Mother?" Jaime asked.

"Mother?''

Cersei's eyes lit up.

"Do you think our little brother or sister is being born?''

He shrugged his shoulders and thought of Mother's rounded belly, the way she let them put their little hands on it and explained that their family would soon be growing, he thought of Father's smile when he looked at her, of his smiles when he felt the baby move.

"Come on, let's go see.''

They hurried off when they heard the echo of their septa's calls.

"Father is not going to be happy... "Jaime grinned.

Cersei didn't answer: their father was the least of her worries at that moment, she was only thinking of the new lion cub that would soon be joining their siblings, she was already imagining their games of hide-and-seek and their bursts of laughter.

She couldn't be happier than she was at that moment.

(Her joy would soon turn to ashes in her mouth, but that, of course, Cersei could not have known).

She took Jaime by the hand and led him to the door of Mother's room. They both froze when a blood-curdling scream tore the silence.

"It's... is it Mother?"Jaime said, his eyes round.

"I... I think...''

A few days ago, as they were asking more and more questions about the birth of the baby, she explained to them that childbirth can be very painful, but this was just an abstract idea in their minds of innocent children, a bit like all those stories she used to tell them in the evening before they fell asleep.

It wasn't _real_.

But the heart-rending screams they were now hearing were, and Cersei was beginning to seriously regret disobeying and not staying with their septa.

"What are we going to do? "Jaime asked as she scanned the hallway. "Do you think we should go for help?"

But the voices they heard inside the room told them that their mother was not alone.

"Father must be with her," Cersei said, trying to look confident.

Father was with Mother, Father was a lion, Father was going to fix everything, thanks to him she was going to stop shouting and everything was going to be all right.

Everything was going to be all right.

"Should we... "began Jaime, but he was interrupted by another scream and, just a few seconds later, by the door opening suddenly. The twins had just enough time to see their father's curved silhouette in the room before Mestre Creylen stood in front of them.

"What are you doing here ?" he asked in a strange voice that didn't sound like him.

"We want to see Mother.''

Cersei and Jaime noticed that new, higher-pitched, louder screams were resounding in the room - the cries of a newborn baby.

"He is born!" Cersei exclaimed as she tried to pass by. "Is it a boy or a girl? Can we see it?''

"No, don't go in," he replied, blocking their way.

"Maester Creylen."

The voice was so weak that it took the twins several seconds to recognize Mother's voice.

"Let them in.''

"I don't think that...''

"Please.''

He lowered his head and moved away, but Cersei didn't want to go any further.

Something was wrong.

Father knelt at the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. There was a strange smell in the room.

(Had she been older, Cersei would probably have recognized the smell of death, but she was young, so young - too young).

Jaime took her hand and it was he who entered first when she would never have had the courage to do so, he who gave her the strength to take one step, then two, then three, he who stopped her from breaking down in tears and running away.

Mother was lying on her bed and a baby was waving weakly in her arms.

There was blood.

A lot of blood.

Something was wrong.

"Jaime... Cersei... my children...''

There was something strange in her voice, as if she wasn't really there anymore, as if she didn't really see them, and her breathing was labored.

And that blood, all that blood...

"Come...''

Then Jaime and Cersei climbed onto the bed, and their pretty white garments took on a scarlet hue.

"Mother?" Cersei became alarmed.

They glanced at Father and it was as if he wasn't really there either, he was prostrate, no longer seeing, no longer hearing, even the lions were sometimes helpless, and this hard lesson would never leave the twins' minds again.

"It's... it's your little brother.''

The baby was still bawling in her arms, but neither Cersei nor Jaime could enjoy meeting him.

Why did Mother look so bad?

"His... his name is Tyrion.''

They didn't realize it, but Joanna Lannister gathered what little strength she had left to say her last words before she died, before she abandoned her little lion cubs in this world that was far too cruel, especially to the innocent - especially to those who were different.

"Here, take it," she murmured.

Tyrion continued to scream as Cersei closed her little arms around him as Jaime put one hand behind his head.

(They didn't notice that it was a bit too big and that her arms and legs were a bit too small).

"You must love him," Mother urged them. "He is your little brother. You have to love him and you have to protect him... even though I'm not here anymore.''

"Mother? "said Jaime. "But...''

Something was wrong, and as the sun went down, two little lion cubs discovered the reality of death, something that was not a fairy tale, something that was real.

Something that was unjust and would break their tender little hearts, and no one would be there to help them pick up the pieces - especially not Father.

"Promise me," Joanna repeated. "Promise me to love and protect him.''

And Cersei, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks, despite the growing anger she felt at the baby that had just torn her mother from within to come into the world, could only nod, and Jaime nodded as well.

It was Mother who had asked them to do so, Mother who sang them lullabies and kissed them on the forehead, Mother who looked after them when they were sick and scolded them gently when they did something stupid, Mother who played with them and consoled them when they were sad.

They loved Mother and Mother asked them to love Tyrion, then they would love him with all their heart, they would protect him against everyone, especially against Father, but they didn't know that yet.

"Tywin..." she murmured.

Tywin jumped up, looked up, and quickly took her hand.

"Joanna... stay with me, please.''

But it was too late, he knew it. She put her already icy hand on his cheek, offered a last smile to Cersei and Jaime, and closed her eyes.

She would never open them again.

The tears of the twins fell on Tyrion's face as he continued to scream terribly, as if he, too, was mourning the mother he would never know, and mourning the love she might have given him.

"He... he killed Mother," Cersei sobbed. "He killed her!''

"It's just a baby, Cersei," Jaime replied through her tears. "It wasn't his fault. We promised to love and protect him... that's what we have to do.''

And, Jaime, even though his heart was in pieces, even though he felt completely empty, leaned over and kissed Tyrion on the forehead.

When the baby miraculously stopped crying, Jaime knew he would do everything he could to keep his promise.

Tyrion was his little brother - their little brother as he would surely remind Cersei.

And if he didn't see the look of hatred in Father's eyes as he looked at the newborn baby who had just snatched his wife from him, he saw Cersei's slightly hesitant one.

"It's our little brother," he insisted. "He needs us.''

Tyrion closed his tiny hand around Cersei's finger.

Then she bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

They never knew if they hadn't just imagined it, but it seemed as if Tyrion was smiling at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave us a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not our mother tongue.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> As expected, here is the first chapter. I hope you'll like it as much as you liked the prologue!  
> Enjoy the reading!
> 
> SMcg1704

The years had passed.

Jaime and Cersei had had to get used to the fact that they no longer had a mother, no one to comfort them when they were sad, no one to tell them stories, no one to convince their father to let them be children.

But they had Tyrion. And they had promised. They promised their mother to take care of him and love him, because no one else would do it for them.

At first they had thought that their father would love Tyrion at least as much as Jaime. After all, he too was a boy, he too was a Lannister, he too was a lion from the Rock.

But they soon realized that they were wrong. Tywin had barely glanced at the baby that the maester had just snatched from the death, that the maester had just snatched from his mother's body, and then left, never to return to see him again.

But the look he had cast on the newborn had not escaped the twins. They had never seen such a glow in their father's icy emeralds, even when they were fooling around.

It was hatred, pure hatred, but that Cersei and Jaime were far too young to understand.

They had heard the murmurings about Lord Tywin Lannister's latest son.

_The baby is a monster. The baby is deformed. The baby killed Lady Joanna._

At first, Cersei had thought what they were saying was true, at least on one point. The baby had killed their mother.

But Jaime had told her that she was wrong, that he couldn't have killed their mother, that he didn't know, that he was just a baby, and that their mother had made them promise.

And it was Jaime who was right.

So Cersei listened to him, and attacked anyone she caught insulting Tyrion, whether they were children or adults, poor or rich, commoners or noblemen. After all, he was her little brother, and family was the most important thing she had been taught since she was a little girl, and she had promised her mother.

When Oberyn and Elia Martell came to Casterly Rock, saying they wanted to see the monster that had killed Lady Joanna, Cersei retorted that the baby was not a monster with such emphasis from the age of four that the two Dornians backed down in surprise.

And the years had passed.

Cersei and Jaime had finally understood why their father and the world seemed to hate Tyrion.

He hadn't grown much, not as he should have, in any case, and remained small, very small, too small.

And people laughed.

But not Cersei and Jaime. Never Cersei and Jaime. It didn't matter to them. He was their little brother and they loved him with all their heart.

They spent whole days running and playing in the sand, in the silver foamy waves and under the golden sun.

But Cersei and Jaime had grown up, too.

And Tyrion had noticed that there was a little something between them, something more, something that would never happen between him and his brother or sister. He had already seen them kissing on the mouth several times, he had already seen them sleeping naked together, when, one night when a particularly violent storm had hit the Rock, he had run to seek refuge in his brother and sister's bed, and he knew from what the septons and septas kept repeating that it was _wrong_.

But why was it wrong when they both looked so happy, when it looked so _good_?

Their father, who always said that the lion doesn't concern himself with the opinion of the sheep, agreed. It wasn't right. It wasn't right for Cersei to sleep in the same bed with her twin brother.

So he separated them.

Cersei and Jaime started sleeping in separate beds in separate rooms, taking separate lessons, them who had always been together.

And it saddens Tyrion to see them so unhappy because of their forced separation.

And they separate even more as time goes by, as they grow older.

Cersei now has pretty feminine curves, round and soft, and long golden hair that cascades down her back.

Jaime has become taller, wider, more muscular. A real man, the only true Lannister heir, the only one of Tywin Lannister's children who really interests him.

They are no longer one, as they had always been before. They don't look as much alike as they used to, when they could exchange clothes to deceive everyone, even their father, maybe even themselves.

After all, they had already said it several times.

_If I had been a woman, I would have been Cersei._

_If I had been a man, I would have been Jaime._

But the greatest separation they had experienced was when Cersei was sent to King's Landing, where she could be seen as a mare for sale by the greatest lords of Westeros so that one of them could claim her in marriage, when Jaime would have wanted to, _should_ have married her.

Cersei was gone, and nothing was the same as before.

Jaime had stayed with Tyrion, but Tyrion felt that part of Jaime had left with their sister.

Jaime had become moody, even disrespectful to their father, something he soon regretted, when this insolence was rewarded with the promise of marriage to Lysa Tully.

But Jaime had gone to join Cersei in King's Landing. He had gone to join the Kingsguard, to be near his twin, because she was his half, his whole, and he could not live without her. He was not whole without her. He had taken his vows, and had made their father furious, realizing that the only son he considered a worthy enough heir had just slipped through his fingers.

_We are Lannisters. Lannisters do not behave like fools._

Jaime gazed blankly at the corpse of the Mad King, which lay before him.

Scarlet red blood, which this raging monarch had loved so much, ran through his silver hair from the wound in his back.

The Silver King bathing in a pool of his own scarlet blood, stabbed to death by the Golden Knight.

Silver and Targaryen blood.

Scarlet and Lannister gold.

Jaime stood there with the sword at the end of his arm heavier than it had ever been.

He had just killed Aerys.

_He had just killed the king._

He was now guilty of Kingslayer.

Oh yes, he had just saved more than half a million people from certain death, a horrible death.

A death ordered by Aerys.

_Burn them all!_

Fire and blood. Oh how well chosen was the motto of the Targaryen.

He didn't know whether to be proud or not. After all, he had just broken an oath, a sacred oath.

But, whatever he did, he would have broken one.

The prerogatives of the knights were to protect the innocent and those of the members of the Royal Guard were to protect the king.

But what could be done when the king wanted to attack the innocent?

Moreover, Aerys had just ordered him to kill his father, otherwise he too would be burned to death.

Even though he had little affection for Lord Tywin, he would never have been able to kill him.

Tywin was influence, power and opulence. He was the glory and power of the House of Lannister.

But without Tywin, he would be free. Tyrion would be free. Cersei would be free, free to marry whomever she wanted, to marry him.

It was then that he had an idea, something that would have allowed him to claim Cersei's hand, without the need to kill their father.

He turned to the Iron Throne, which stood there, just as it had stood before, black, dark.

Jaime went up the few steps he had come down to see the remains of Aerys.

With his fingertips he touched the hilt of a sword that protruded from one of the armrests of the monstrous Iron Throne, so similar to the one he was still holding in his right hand, dripping with the blood of his last victim, and, turning around on a whim, sat on the Throne.

From there he dominated the entire chamber. He was the almighty power incarnate, the one he could never be by being the lord of Casterly Rock. No one could ever say no to him.

Even to marry Cersei.

After all, the Targaryen dynasty had been married between brothers and sisters for centuries. Why should this change with the Lannister dynasty?

He even allowed himself to imagine what his life with Cersei could be like as his wife, as his _queen_.

Of course, he had thought about it many times before, but now it seemed possible to him. It seemed real to him.

They would finally be free to no longer hide, to be openly in love, to officially share a bed.

They could have children. Beautiful little princes and beautiful little princesses with gold curls and emerald eyes.

But he was soon interrupted in his sweet idylls by the doors of the Throne Room, which opened violently on Eddard Stark and his Northmen.

_They were children, and they were running on the beach, as usual. Cersei, who was in front, tripped and fell into the water, and Jaime, who was following her very closely, fell in turn, right on top of her. She turned around to be face to face with her brother. Tyrion, who was smaller and slower, had managed to stop just before colliding with them._

_Suddenly, Jaime, without warning, kissed Cersei's lips, and Cersei instinctively kissed him back._

_He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear:_

_"One day, I'll marry you...''_

_At his words, a big smile lit up Cersei's face, making her even more resplendent than the sun itself, which was warming above them, making their golden hair shine._

_''Oh yes! And we will be the Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock, as Father and Mother!_

_''No. I will be king, and you will be my queen.''_

It seemed as if all the people of Westeros had gathered in King's Landing, hoping to get a glimpse of the royal wedding that would be held there that very day.

All the nobles who were invited were crammed into the Great Septuary of Baelor, where, as usual, the ceremony would take place.

Jaime stood at the altar where he was supposed to wait.

It had been well over two hours since the guests had begun to arrive. The royal union was about to begin.

Jaime took a look at his little brother, who was waiting a few steps down. Jaime looked at his little brother, who was waiting a few steps down the stairs, and he smiled encouragingly at him.

Then Cersei walked in on their father's arm.

She was more radiant than she had ever been, dressed in her sumptuous red and gold gown, dressed in Lannister glory, her long golden hair coiled in an intricate bun, illuminating, irradiating all those present in the religious building, overshadowing the women and amazing the men, and Jaime couldn't help smiling when he saw her like that, there, like a goddess who had come to Earth to show them, poor humans, what beauty was all about. She was looking him straight in the eyes, smiling back at him.

She walked down the aisle with her supple and graceful, feline gait, accompanied by Lord Tywin, who stood upright, imposing, as he had always been.

The Lannister patriarch let go of his daughter's arm at the bottom of the steps, and a tall man with a beard and black hair, looking haughty and powerful came up to her, and took her by the arm in turn, smiling broadly at the apparent splendor of the bride, the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.

Jaime couldn't help but grit his teeth when he saw Robert Baratheon take Cersei's arm.

It should have been him. It would have been him, if it wasn't for Ned Stark.

And now Robert had stolen Cersei from him. He was the one who had managed to get her hand.

Jaime was furious with their father. How could he have let that boar marry his only daughter? Hadn't he heard the rumors going around Baratheon, claiming that he spent his days drinking, fucking, and hunting?

But Robert Baratheon was king, and Tywin Lannister was determined to make his daughter a queen at any cost.

If she had to be unhappy for that, so be it. She would be unhappy. And so would Jaime.

While he thought he couldn't be angrier than when Robert had grabbed the arm of his future queen, ogling her as if she were a particularly tasty piece of meat, he noticed that he was even angrier when his sister, his half, the love of his life, uttered the words to the boar who was to serve as her husband, words that they had said to each other out of sight and sound of the whole world many times, and that they should have said officially together.

_I am his, he is mine, until the end of my days..._

The ceremony went rather well. The people present had applauded loudly when Robert had kissed her, cheering the new royal couple, look how tall the king is, and handsome, and strong, and the queen, how beautiful, how radiant, how splendid she is.

The banquet had already been going on for hours, and Cersei was beginning to worry seriously about the impressive amount of wine her new husband had already ingested, noticing that he continued to get drunk, not caring how many glasses he kept bringing down, not even giving her a glance, but lingering on the buttocks and breasts of every woman in the room. Her father, sitting next to her, was bored stiffly, obviously, and did not speak.

But when Tywin had gone down to talk to other lords, and Robert was too busy looking away, Jaime quietly put his hand on Cersei's neck, gently rubbing her exposed white skin. Cersei, at first surprised by what she felt in her neck, was startled, but relaxed when she saw that it was only her twin.

A few hours later, when it was clear that he was totally drunk, Robert, all red and laughing loudly, bellowed that it was time for bedding.

Cersei, who had been dreading this moment all day long, closed her eyes and waited for all the drunken lords who were at least twice as old as she was to come and have fun undressing her by making obscene jokes, watching her from every angle and dragging her to the room where the wedding night was to take place.

But it didn't happen. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Jaime standing in front of her with his sword drawn, dissuading the men from bothering her.

She smiled when she saw this. Her knight. After all, who would dare to attack Jaime Lannister, one of the best swordsmen of his generation and perhaps one of the best swordsmen who ever lived? Who would dare to attack the Kingslayer?

When he was sure that none of these fat noblemen would lay a hand on Cersei, he put his sword in its sheath and took his sister by the hand, escorting her out of the room himself.

As soon as they were alone in the corridor, Jaime clasped Cersei to him and led her to the king's chambers. He stood in front of the door without saying a word, glued her forehead to his own, and after a few seconds, pushed her into the room, still fully clothed.

Cersei walked a little timidly into the room, in case Robert was already there. But he wasn't. She was alone. She sat down on the bed, letting her mind wander to her greatest worry: she was not a virgin. Would Robert notice?

He was introduced a few minutes later, half-naked, by the ladies of the court, giggling and joking.

He was all red, and looked even more drunk than when Cersei had seen him at the banquet. When he saw him, he cried out in a thunderous voice:

''Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, she's here... The new queen, the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms...

He stumbled towards her, and, without the slightest thoughtfulness, without the slightest consideration, he tore off her dress, revealing her white chest and her belly. A fraction of a second later, and she was totally naked, as on the day of her birth.

Judging that it was better to wait for it to pass rather than try to resist, she lay obediently on the bed, legs apart.

Robert let himself fall on her, crushing her with all his weight, and, without warning, suddenly penetrated her.

Cersei grimaced in pain, as he entered her body suddenly without awakening and began to strike against her, grunting with desire and pleasure, like an animal, as she felt a warm liquid flowing between her thighs.

It wasn't like with Jaime.

Jaime was always gentle and kind to her. Jaime was careful not to hurt her, not to harm her. Jaime was always concerned about her pleasure before his own.

But not Robert.

And, at the supreme moment, when he poured himself into her, he leaned over and whispered a word to her, and whispered a name in her ear :

''Lyanna...''

_''Did you make me ask, Father?''_

_''Yes, Cersei. I have something to tell you. I found you a husband. You're going to marry Robert Baratheon. You're going to be queen.''_

Just as Robert fell asleep, only minutes after she had taken her pleasure, Cersei got up, and wrapped herself in the rags that remained of her dress, silently walked out of the room.

She fell directly on Jaime, who always stood guard at the door.

He knew immediately that something was wrong, when he saw Cersei leave the room, her tattered dress barely covering her, her eyes full of tears.

Silent, she came towards him. He opened her arms, allowing her to come and take refuge, and closed his protective embrace around her as soon as she was huddled up against him.

He detached the white coat from his shoulders, and covered her with it, as he should have done a few hours before, during the wedding, showing her love and protection.

She began to sob against his chest, and he just stood there with his arms around her, stroking her hair, gently rocking with her in the hope of calming her:

''It's over, my love. It's over now.''

But no, it wasn't over. It was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave us a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not our mother tongue.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you again for all your reviews, they make us very happy ^^
> 
> This chapter was written by BlackAngelis.
> 
> Enjoy reading it!

Cersei was livid.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she watched in distraction as Pycelle talked with Robert. Her first name was mentioned several times but not once did they deign to look at her. She ran a hand through her long, tousled blond hair and turned to the window. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and a soft summer breeze made the green leaves on the trees quiver. Cersei closed her eyes and imagined herself running away, far, far away from this room, far away from this castle, running away with Jaime and Tyrion and never coming back.

But that wasn't possible, was it? She was no longer that naive girl who dreamed of marrying her twin brother and a crown of flowers.

That golden fool had died the day they put that cursed deer crown on her head, that crown so similar to that of her king, the one she hated above all because it only reminded her of what she had lost - no, what she had never been able to have.

Pycelle finally decided not to be interested in the long monologue of the king to come and stand in front of her. Cersei shivered when he put his disgusting hand on her belly without asking her permission first.

(But deep down, and it was as painful as it was sad, Cersei was used to people doing without her consent - to her husband doing without her consent).

"Congratulations, Your Grace," he said in his nasal and unbearable voice.

After bowing, he left the room.

It was a beautiful day.

The sky was blue, the sun was shining, a gentle summer breeze made the green leaves on the trees quiver, and Cersei was pregnant.

Inside, she felt frozen.

Robert gazed at her for what seemed like an eternity and she found herself trapped by his blue eyes, as blue as the sky she contemplated while dreaming of being somewhere else, as blue as the marks he left on her body when he was too abrupt with her.

All Robert had to do was look at her and she remembered everything.

Their first year of marriage had been far too similar to her sad wedding night. The King of the Seven Kingdoms needed a queen, he needed a wife to hang on his arm at banquets and ceremonies, he needed a body to satisfy his physical needs every night, he needed a broodmare to carry his heirs.

He did not need Cersei Lannister. Cersei Lannister meant nothing to him, only her fleshly body was important. He did not want to know her, did not feel the slightest desire to make her happy, and as for her heart, the idea of conquering it had not even crossed his mind for a second.

Cersei Lannister was not Lyanna Stark, and he had never forgiven her for the death for which she was not even responsible.

She was the other, the consolation prize, the queen of shadows.

She was nothing.

Slowly but surely, Cersei had closed in on herself. Rage had invaded her, a slow poison that caused her a thousand sufferings, and neither Jaime nor Tyrion had been able to do anything to cure her.

Cersei remained silent and obeyed her king, but inside she screamed.

She screamed when Robert ordered her to be quiet in an annoyed tone.

She screamed when he insulted her brothers in front of her or when he insulted her.

She screamed when, every night, he crushed her with his weight and rode her without any gentleness as he took his pleasure with his eyes closed, uttering disgusting moans that still resounded in her mind long after he had poured himself into her, whispering the name of his late beloved.

Jaime was there, of course, she would run to take refuge in his arms at the slightest opportunity and he would rock her for hours by caressing her hair.

"I'm going to kill him," he had scolded a thousand times. "I'm going to stab him like the pig he is. I'm going to...''

But Cersei shook her head, that too was a dream, Robert was the king, he was invincible, and Jaime would not survive a second regicide. Each time she finally broke free from the protective embrace of her other half, Cersei felt like she was dying a little more.

The passionate fire that once burned inside her had gone out, and even her twin brother could no longer rekindle the flame. Every time he touched her, Cersei couldn't help but think of the terrible feeling of Robert's skin against hers, she wanted to vomit and start crying, what had she done to deserve this?

What would her mother say if she saw what had become of her daughter? Father didn't care, she knew it, he had sold her to Robert for the promise of a little more glory and prestige, what he did with her was of little interest to him, but Mother? Mother who stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead, who told her that she was the bravest and prettiest little girl in the world?

What would she say if she saw the tears of gold and blood that flowed from her eyes every night?

But Mother was not there, nor were Jaime and Tyrion. Cersei was alone in this room, alone under the gaze of the crowned stag.

A satisfied smile stretched Robert's lips.

"You've done your duty," he let go after a while.

Cersei nodded her head obediently. A queen's duty was to give an heir to her king, and she had done so. She had kindly spread her thighs every night, she had put up with her bumps and scowls - she had let Cersei Lannister fade away to become the king's shadow.

"My heir... it's perfect.”

Without adding anything more, he left the room with a quiet step.

Cersei put a hand on her belly.

She hadn't made love with Jaime for several months.

The child could not be his.

Robert had succeeded. He had made her a broodmare, a vessel, he had reduced her to her belly, to the heir she was going to give him - the future King of the Seven Kingdoms.

A son with black hair and blue eyes, the spitting image of his father.

A Baratheon.

A child who wouldn't look anything like her - who wouldn't look like Jaime.

Her last dreams as a young girl collapsed silently. One moment they were there and the next they were gone, as if they had never existed.

But was it amazing? After all, a fate of tears and mourning had been foretold to him years earlier.

One could not escape his destiny.

Cersei took her head in her hands and began to cry.

* * *

It was dark.

Melara was afraid, afraid of suffering the wrath of Tywin Lannister, but at that moment Cersei didn't care.

It was Tyrion who had told him about this witch, his eyes wide open in terror. Cersei had laughed at him slightly. At the age of ten, he was still a child who believed in monsters and ghosts. She wanted to prove to him that he didn't need to be afraid.

Melara begged her to turn back but Cersei would not listen. She was determined - she was a lioness, and the witch was just a harmless sheep.

She does not retreat in front of the sharp blade of the dagger.

She didn't step back when the skin of her thumb tore like paper, she didn't step back when the witch tasted her blood.

(She should, however, have had to run away from this tent, very far away from that fateful destiny that was engraved with scarlet violence in her memory).

* * *

Jaime said nothing when Cersei told him that she was carrying the king's child.

He just lowered his head because, after all, he too had dreamed of a child with golden hair and emerald eyes.

He was furious that the pig that was her husband managed to knock her up, furious that he forced his way into her night after night - furious that he did nothing to stop him, that he didn't kill him, that he didn't run away with Cersei.

His twin sister was crying.

"I'm sorry, Jaime... I'm so sorry... "

He came to his senses and held her close to him before kissing her on the forehead.

"Don't cry, please don't cry. It is not your fault.’’

"But I have disappointed you, I know that. It is because of me that we stopped ...''

But Jaime shook his head and held it tighter against him. How could he blame her, knowing what she was going through every night? How could he have been so selfish? He loved Cersei, she was his sister, his twin sister, his other half, the love of his life, he was not like Robert, he didn't see her as a body that he could dispose of as he pleased.

"Don't apologize, Cersei. Don't apologize... it's all right...’’

Her tears ran down his neck for long minutes as he whispered soothing words to her.

"This child is a piece of you," he whispered. "Then I can only love him.’’

He wouldn't have Cersei's golden hair and green eyes, he wouldn't be the fruit of their love and it would break his heart, but his blood would still flow through his veins. How could he hate him?

"Really ?’’

"I assure you.’’

Her eyes were always covered with a veil as if she doubted that she would ever be able to love this constant reminder of the abject being that was her husband, but Jaime was certain that deep down inside, this little lion cub growing in her womb had already curled up deep in her mother's heart.

"It's going to be all right, okay ?''

Cersei forced herself to offer him a small smile as he wiped away her tears.

" Okay.''

Of course, she didn't believe in it.

* * *

‘’ Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.’’

The witch's first words left her almost speechless, her heart began to beat a little faster, and for the first time, Cersei understood why

Tyrion had been so afraid when he mentioned the presence of this creature near their home.

She was lying, wasn't she? She had to lie, it was not possible otherwise, Cersei was a lioness, she was promised a red and gold future, a future worthy of a Lannister. Jaime told her that no other woman would ever overshadow her beauty and Jaime never lied to her.

She doubted, however, she could not ignore this prophecy that would irremediably change the course of her life, these filthy words against which she would never stop fighting.

Cersei trembled.

She almost screamed when the witch resumed:

‘’You will have three children. Gold will be their crown, gold will be their shroud.’’

* * *

Cersei watched Robert rubbing himself without decency against a poor girl who was in charge of bringing the banquet dishes. She did not lead but did not protest.

No one said no to the king, and that was something Cersei had learned at her expense.

Robert, euphoric at the idea of finally having an heir, had organized this great celebration where he had not skimped on expenses, despite the insistent advice of Jon Arryn. Cersei grimaced. All this had been paid for with lion's gold, why would he have had the slightest qualms about squandering the fortune of the illustrious Tywin Lannister in this way?

Prostrated in a corner of the room, she was simply invisible, and so much the better. Jaime was not there. Robert, who had not wanted the presence of this knight he hated, had sent him to stand guard she didn't know where.

Cersei was furious. These festivities were not intended to celebrate the arrival of the future king, it was distressing evidence. Her husband had simply seen it as a good opportunity to get drunk and lure one or more girls into his bed, noble if possible - a change from the whores he usually fucked on the rare nights when he deserted his queen's bed.

The rare nights when she was breathing a little.

"Cersei?''

She fluttered her eyelids, surprised to be addressed, and then recognized Tyrion.

''Oh," she said. ''It's you.''

Her little brother gave her a little smile before taking a look at Robert.

"I think your husband doesn't want me here.''

He watched them disgruntled but was happily distracted by Jon Arryn who whispered something in his ear.

"I don't care what he thinks," she replied. "I want you.''

Tyrion kept a relatively low profile in the Red Keep, which was unusual. At Casterly Rock, he drowned her and Jaime in words, and not an hour went by without him having something to tell them. And Cersei loved them, his anecdotes and stories, she loved the nights they spent chatting together, she loved when he made her laugh and when he wrapped his little arms around her waist.

Tysha's affair had put a sad stop to the flow of words coming out of his mouth.

And then Cersei had also been silent, she too, gradually, inexorably, so perhaps he had imitated her in a completely unconscious way.

"I wish Jaime were here," Tyrion murmured.

Cersei nodded sadly. His presence would have been a great source of comfort to her.

Robert knew that, of course.

Tyrion looked at the few couples on the dance floor.

"Do you... do you want to dance?''

He seemed strangely uncomfortable.

"I... I know I'm not Jaime, but... ''

Without giving him time to continue, Cersei grabbed her arm and the two of them began to twirl slowly. They were probably ridiculous, but that was the least of her worries.

Nothing could annoy Robert more than to see his queen dancing with this monster whose mere sight disgusted him and made her happy. His predictions were quickly confirmed. She looked away from her red face and alcohol-darkened eyes to concentrate on her little brother.

"I'll always be there for you, you know that? ''

Cersei smiled quietly at him and tousled his hair.

"I know.''

But a crack had appeared in her eyes and her smile had collapsed.

* * *

‘’And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.’’

Cersei did not hear any more: she ran away.

She didn't know the meaning of the word, she didn't want to know it, she was terrified, if this prophecy was true death and desolation would stand in her way, glory would collapse and gold would lose its beautiful luster, she would have nothing left, not even her life.

Cersei eventually learned what a valonqar was, of course, and this discovery horrified her more than anything else.

Never again would she look at Tyrion in the same way, never could she forget those terrible words, that death sentence.

Tyrion was going to kill her one day.

She would have to hate him right then and there for that.

But she promised, she promised Mother that she would love and protect him.

What was she going to do?

* * *

Tyrion continued to smile at her.

The years had passed, but Cersei could not shake off the impression that it was death she was holding against her.

Bad luck for her, she loved this death, and it only made things more complicated.

* * *

Tyrion watched Cersei's belly swell with childish wonder. He was only seventeen, after all, and he still retained some of the innocence that all adults eventually lose, some more brutally than others - his brother and sister, for example.

He often joined her in her room where she spent most of her days and read to her - she found he had a real gift for telling stories. Cersei listened to him, eyes closed, hands on her belly, and smiled.

Jaime would come to join them in the evening and the three of them would spend the evening together, three lions alone in the middle of the crowned stag's domain, three lions united against the rest of the world.

Tyrion cherished these moments more than anything else. He didn't care if the rest of the world laughed at him, looked at him sideways, or was overwhelmed with insults as long as he had Cersei and Jaime, the two people he loved the most in the world.

He hated Robert for what he was doing to his sister, her tears were like stab wounds in his heart and secretly he saw himself as a savior, he saw himself as a brave knight, the hero who would pierce the monster with his sword, allowing the beautiful queen to find her true love.

In his dreams, the three of them would run away and never come back.

They were only dreams, of course, and it was enough for him to meet the king's hateful gaze to remind him of what he was - an imp, a half lion, a nuisance, a weak being.

He hated Robert, but he couldn't help smiling when Cersei let him lay his hand on her belly, he was happy to be that child's uncle and he hoped that he, too, would enjoy the stories he would tell him.

This baby was going to be a part of his family and no one could take that away from him - especially not Robert.

* * *

When the moment finally came, Cersei thought of only one thing.

I don't want Robert in this room.

Robert hadn't been more interested in her since she was pregnant, Robert had only knocked her up but had no intention of raising the child, Robert didn't love her and that was a good thing, she didn't love him either - she hated him.

I don't want Robert in this room.

She already loved this child, she loved him more than anything, she was his mother and she was going to protect him, she wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

I don't want Robert in this room.

Pycelle was leaning between her thighs but she could barely see him. Cersei didn't want Robert but she felt incredibly alone, she was in agony and she was terrified.

She heard noises behind her bedroom door, screams. Pycelle went to see what was going on by mumbling in her beard.

Cersei smiled when she understood what was the source of the racket.

"Sorry, Ser Jaime, Lord Tyrion. You are not allowed in.’’

"And who's going to stop us? "they replied together.

One hand slipped into Cersei's right hand, then another into her left.

She was no longer alone.

"You can do it, Cersei," Jaime whispered, kissing the back of her hand. "You can do it.’’

They couldn't express the extent of their feelings, not here, but it didn't matter, their emerald eyes spoke for them, this green ocean in which they loved to drown.

"Courage, big sister," Tyrion said. "You're going to make it.’’

Cersei no longer thought about prophecy, the contradictory feelings she had every time she looked at her valonqar, that mixture of love and duty sprinkled with mistrust and fear - it didn't matter.

Only the affection they had for each other inhabited all her thoughts, she loved him and he loved her, they loved each other and there was no stronger feeling. It was this simple certainty that gave him the strength to push while his brothers whispered encouragement to him.

They were all two hundred times better than Robert - why would she need her husband when she had Jaime, Tyrion, and their unconditional love?

Cersei was in pain, she was hurting, she was screaming, but she was holding on, for them, for this child she would soon meet - for her family, the thing that would forever remain the center of her world.

It went on for hours and hours, and she felt like she was going to die like she was going to fail miserably, that she was going to meet the same fate as her mother. Perhaps it was her own Tyrion that she was bringing into the world, a baby that would unintentionally cause death on the road to life, and the most desperate part of her concluded that it wouldn't be so bad, that she wouldn't have to endure Robert's rapes and insults, that she would never suffer again.

"You're almost there, Cersei. Just a little more effort.’’

Jaime's voice put an abrupt end to all her morbid hopes. She couldn't die here, like this, today, she couldn't abandon this child, she couldn't abandon her brothers. She was a lioness - she would stand.

When deliverance finally came, her eyes were so drowned out with tears that she couldn't make out anything. She was vaguely aware that something was being placed in her arms.

"It's a boy, Your Grace.’’

Cersei wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Squeezed against her heart, the baby was bawling at the top of his lungs, a little pink thing with a tuft of black hair on the top of his skull.

Her son.

" Well done, Cersei!’’

Jaime and Tyrion kissed her on the cheek at the same time as she smiled and her heart beat a little faster in the intense heat.

She had done it.

Her son had been born and he was handsome and he was well and she loved him, she loved him so much.

She was happy.

Even Jaime was smiling, even though a small glimmer of bitterness continued to strangely shine in her emerald eyes. In another world, a better world, this child would have been theirs, the fruit of their love, perhaps conceived on their wedding night.

He made no remarks, however. His sister, his twin sister, his other half was happy, perhaps for the first time in many months, and nothing in the world would he take that from her.

Pycelle slipped away discreetly, probably to go in search of the king, but his departure went completely unnoticed.

Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion were too busy staring in wonder at the baby waving his little hands and feet.

And, just like the golden-haired queen, Jaime and Tyrion began to love him too.

He was their sister's child - he was part of their herd of lions, and the lions watched over each other.

* * *

This moment of happiness did not last, of course, it was as ephemeral as a snowflake melting on the ground, as fleeting as the flapping of a butterfly's wings.

When Robert finally showed up in the room a few hours later, he froze when he saw this ocean of golden hair around his son.

"Outside," he said.

Cersei cast a desperate glance at her brothers. She hadn't wanted Robert in the room during the birth, and she still didn't want him there.

Jaime and Tyrion stayed where they were, besides their sister, where they belonged. The king stepped forward and stood in front of the one he liked to call Kingslayer.

"Outside," he repeated, still as cold as ever.

Jaime gritted his teeth. The desire to put his sword through the pig was itching, but Robert was his king, the one he had sworn to be loyal to.

He had to obey, and Cersei knew it, so she swallowed the protests that threatened to rise from her throat in a deafening din and bowed her head.

She did not see Jaime and Tyrion reluctantly leave the room. Instead, she saw Robert's big hand covering the skull of the newborn baby, his son, his heir.

"Steffon.’’

Cersei remained silent. It was his father's name, a name of Baratheon, a name she didn't like, but who was she to negotiate? The fire that had been extinguished inside her cut off her desire to fight against the fierce will of the deer.

After nodding approvingly, he left the room.

"I'll protect you," she promised Steffon, kissing him on the forehead.

There were, alas, promises that could not be kept, and Cersei would soon find out the hard way.

* * *

Robert surprised her. He seemed sincerely interested in Steffon, he regularly came to take him in his arms and spend a little time with him, and he smiled, a smile that he had never deigned to give Cersei. He also laughed, sometimes, when the baby's blue eyes lit up and kissed her on the top of his head.

Cersei watched him pursed his lips, fighting the urge to tear their son from his hands and forbid him to come near him. When he finally left the room, she sighed with relief and began humming lullabies to Steffon.

She was horrified by Robert's presence because she was only reminding him who the father of her child was, or rather, who his father was not.

The moments Jaime spent with them always had a bittersweet taste of nostalgia for a dream that never came true.

Cersei was happy, though, and Jaime seemed happy too. Tyrion spent long hours telling stories to his nephew and Cersei was once again truly enjoying listening to him talk.

This was not the life they had wanted, but it was the life they had.

They just had to find the happiness they so longed for.

* * *

They could not find it.

* * *

Steffon was small for his age, he was fragile, and Cersei felt a stone fall into her stomach every time Pycelle looked at him worriedly.

He fell ill one day, and nothing that the maester administered to him succeeded in curing him. He was losing weight at a glance and his forehead was burning.

Cersei stopped sleeping and spent all her nights watching over her son. His fever did not go down, his chest barely lifted, and she was dying from the inside out.

She had promised to protect him, just as she had promised to protect Tyrion, yet she was completely helpless against this invisible enemy.

She was going to fail.

Often Tyrion and Jaime would find her collapsing against the cradle, she would shed every tear in her body. Then, without a word, they would hold her close to them, kissing her on the forehead, and they would find themselves crying too, a little, because a member of their flock was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

* * *

Steffon stopped breathing on a bright and sad morning.

Cersei had no more tears to shed. She watched Robert punch the wall for long minutes with empty eyes.

She didn't react when he said to her, in a voice of grief and anger :

"It's your fault. You didn't take care of him well enough.’’

It was lucky for him that Jaime wasn't there to hear it.

He left the room and left his wife alone with her broken heart and the cold corpse of their son.

A little later, Pycelle tried to take Steffon's body from her arms and she shouted, she screamed, she stormed, it was her baby, her lion cub, her little one and she loved him so much, she wouldn't let him lay his hands on him, he was hers, only hers, now and forever.

She was forced to let him go, several members of the Kingsguard had to hold her as she struggled and shouted, her cries of despair would haunt the walls of the Red Keep forever, the haunting lament of a mother in tears.

Jaime and Tyrion hugged her for hours and never thought to let her go. They too had lost something on that sad day, they too felt a lack that would never be filled, so they had to do everything they could to ease the pain a little, they had to hug each other to become one lion and forget.

"I'm sorry, Cersei," Jaime eventually whispers after a few hours or an eternity. "I'm so sorry.’’

"I'm sorry," Tyrion repeated.

They both kissed him on the forehead and told him that they loved him.

Cersei loved them too, and that love was the only thing that kept her from falling apart altogether.

* * *

A week later, at nightfall, when she knew Robert was busy with some whore, Cersei slipped into Jaime's room and into bed.

Sadness and rage had rekindled a flame within her, a flame that was no longer the innocent and slightly naive flame she had once been so familiar with, a flame that had originated in the emptiness that was digging into her bruised heart.

A void she wanted to fill.

"What is it that..." Jaime whispered as she put her lips against his.

He straightened up and walked away from her.

"Cersei, you...''

"Please, Jaime. I love you so much, I need you. I need my other half.''

Without waiting for an answer, she gave him another deeper, more languorous kiss, and her hands were already busy removing his shirt.

Jaime was tempted to protest again because she was surely not in a state to think properly because the grief was troubling her heart and mind, but Cersei's lips were soft and her skin was warm.

She needed him.

So Jaime gave in.

When they became one after more than a year as two separate beings, both of them welcomed with relief the delicious feeling of fullness that began to run through their veins. Jaime looked into Cersei's eyes and kept kissing her to remind her that he loved her, that he was hers, and that he would spend his life searching for the pieces of her broken heart to put back together if necessary.

She cried when he fell back to her side, out of breath.

"I miss him so much..." she moaned.

Jaime hugged her against him and she buried her face in his neck.

"I'm here," he repeated. "I love you. I'll always be here for you.''

He never knew if Cersei had heard him: she had fallen asleep against him.

With a heavy heart, Jaime put a last kiss on her forehead and fell asleep in his turn.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave us a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not our mother tongue.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your reviews!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> SMcg1704

As the months went by, Robert became angrier and angrier. Cersei had still not become pregnant again. He still didn't have his heir.

He became impatient and became more and more violent with her. Although he had never cared about her or her well-being, especially when he forced her to share his bed, and he did not hesitate to belittle her or rebuke her publicly, this had now taken on a different form.

He grabbed her with an iron fist, pushing his fingers into her flesh, leaving many bruises, sometimes even hitting her.

She had taken great care to hide them, these marks. She could not bear the sight of them, which violently reminded her of the empty shell, the weak woman, the shadow of herself that she had become.

But she had not managed to hide them from her two brothers.

Tyrion, despite his young age, was terribly perceptive, and it had not taken him long to see that something was wrong, or rather, that something was going less well than usual between his older sister and brother-in-law, but Cersei had managed to convince him not to tell their brother.

* * *

Cersei was sitting on her bed when Jaime entered.

She had just returned from Robert's apartments. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes full of unshed tears as she turned her head toward him.

She knew he would come. Jaime always came after, when she felt dirty, defiled by Robert.

He always came, helping her take a bath and lying down with her, so she could snuggle up close to him, while he hugged her with a kiss and whispered in her ear how much he loved her and that he would always be there for her.

That night was no exception.

Except that this time Cersei couldn't hold back a grimace of pain when Jaime hugged her, accidentally squeezing a bruise that Robert had given her a few hours earlier.

And Jaime, who noticed it, immediately panicked:

''Oh my God, Cersei, I'm sorry... did I hurt you?''

"No, it's okay," she lied.

''Are you sure? Let me see..." he said, taking her arm.

"No, it's nothing, I'm telling you..."

She tried to break free violently, too much to go unnoticed, but Jaime was much stronger than her, and kept a firm grip around her wrist.

Before she could protest further, he rolled up her sleeve and saw the purplish mark on her white skin. His expression darkened considerably.

''Cersei... What is that?''

''It's nothing, I hitting myself yesterday, and...''

"Is that Robert?"

The question, which wasn't really a question, was so sudden that Cersei didn't have time to prepare an answer that would properly conceal her lie (was it useful anyway?). She had never been able to lie to Jaime).

''No... No, I...''

''It's Robert.''

This time it was an affirmation, as if Jaime knew, as if deep down he had always known.

He leaned over, looking more closely at the bruise on Cersei's arm, then kissed her, before straightening up.

He looked her in the eyes and asked her point-blank:

''Are there any others?''

Cersei looked away, but Jaime took her chin in his hand, gently but firmly, to force her to look at him.

"Look me in the eyes, and don't even try to lie to me... Are there others?"

He took his sister's lack of response as a yes, and released her.

"Where?"

Still without saying a word, Cersei dropped the dress she had quickly put back on and turned around.

While the black sky was studded with silver stars outside, Cersei's back and arms were studded with dark stars.

Blue stars, purple stars, green stars, yellow stars.

And Jaime saw red.

He caressed the marks with his fingertips, as if his simple touch could have healed them.

''I'm going to kill him...'' he murmured.

Cersei turned around and looked him straight in the eyes.

''Don't do that... Please Jaime, don't do that... They'll get your head if you kill Robert...''

''I don't care... He'll never hurt you again...''

As he began to move toward the door, his hand already on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw as soon as he found himself in front of the king, Cersei burst into tears and threw himself into his arms.

"Don't go... Please, Jaime, don't go..."

Seeing his beloved sister in this state, he could only close his protective embrace around her and, caressing her hair and gently rocking with her, whispered in her ear in a soothing voice:

''Hey, hey, it's all right, sweetling, it's all right... I'm here, I'm not going anywhere..."

* * *

Months had passed, months during which the whole kingdom had waited for only one thing: the announcement of the imminent arrival of a new heir to the Crown.

But nothing.

The Seven Kingdoms were becoming impatient, and so was Robert, especially since patience had never been one of his main virtues (which were already few, from Cersei's point of view).

* * *

It was a beautiful sunny morning when Tyrion entered his sister's apartments to have breakfast with her and Jaime, as they used to do.

Normally, the Knights of the Kingsguard were supposed to eat in the Tower of the White Sword, but who would risk opposing the Kingslayer, the Queen's twin brother?

However, when Tyrion entered, Cersei was alone, even paler than usual.

He sat opposite her.

"Isn't Jaime coming?"

''No, he was on duty last night. He went to bed."

Tyrion noticed that his sister was touching absolutely nothing on her plate.

''Is something wrong?''

He felt a little silly to ask the question. Something was wrong, and it had been wrong since Cersei had married Robert.

Cersei looked him straight in the eye, and deep inside her green irises, he perceived a slight shine, a shine that had been there when they still lived in Casterly Rock and Jaime put flowers in Cersei's hair, when they were still dreaming, these beautiful golden fools, with ribbon tied around their hands, scarlet cloak with roaring lions dressed in the light of the Seven, and children with golden hair and emerald eyes running on the beach and playing in the waves.

''I am with child''.

"Is it Robert's?

Silence was the only thing that answered him.

* * *

It had already been dark for several hours when we knocked on Jaime's room.

He got up to open the door, already knowing very well who would be behind and hoping it would be nothing serious.

Cersei sneaked silently into the room when he opened the door, just enough to let her through.

Her hopes were dashed when he saw the serious look on her face, and the first thing she said to him was:

"Jaime, I need to talk to you..."

She came and stood in front of him, looked him in the eyes, emerald against emerald, and announced to him:

''I am with child.''

Jaime couldn't take his eyes off her. It was the king's child, again, it was the child that the boar had managed to plant in his sister's belly, in the lioness' belly, another baby with black hair and blue eyes, another little piece of Cersei, but not from him.

But Cersei smiled at him, a smile that only Jaime could manage to wring from him, a smile that radiated a smile that could light up an entire room and illuminate the darkest night, that could have illuminated the whole world if the whole world had deserved it, to be illuminated by this golden sun.

''It's your child.''

He felt an indescribable wave of heat rise up inside him and overwhelm him, a wave of happiness, because after all, it was one of his dreams, one of their dreams, which had seemed impossible to them when Cersei had married, but which was now coming true.

A child with golden hair and green eyes.

Cersei took his hand and put it gently on her belly, and he drew her in a fiery kiss, a passionate kiss.

Oh, of course, in the eyes of the world, he could never be more than an uncle.

But, deep down, they would know.

They were going to be parents. They were going to have a little lion cub.

* * *

The work had lasted more than a day.

Robert had gone hunting as soon as his wife's deliverance had begun.

But why would Cersei need him?

Tyrion and Jaime were there, as they had always promised, and she needed no one else.

The pain had been horrible, both for Cersei and for Tyrion and Jaime, because after all, she was their sister, they were a herd of lions, and when one suffered, the others suffered too.

But that was nothing, it was forgotten, past, when a screaming little boy came into this world, with green eyes and blond hair, before the eyes of his father and uncle.

When everything was cleaned up, and Grand Maester Pycelle and the army of midwives present had deserted the room, Jaime was able to enjoy the view he would only have until the boar returned.

The sight of the love of his life smiling at their sleeping son.

And, just when he thought he couldn't be happier, Cersei placed their little lion cub in his arms, which instinctively moved to nestle more comfortably.

Perhaps deep down inside, this little being knew what the world should never known.

* * *

To say that Robert was not pleased to see that his son had inherited his mother's blond hair and green eyes was an understatement.

He had screamed, shouted, stormed against everyone, Cersei first, for this Crown Prince who had neither the black hair nor the blue eyes of the Baratheons.

And he was even more furious when, a few years later, the affront was repeated, when Cersei, not content with giving him a son who was more like a lion than a deer, gave him a daughter, with gold curls and emerald irises.

Although everyone was singing the praises of Princess Myrcella, who already looked so much like her mother that she could only grow up to be as beautiful as she was, and of Prince Joffrey, who already had everything of a true king, the perfect little heir to the Crown, he did not love them as he had loved Steffon.

After all, why should he love a child who looked nothing like him, and another who, in addition to having the golden mane and the typical Lannister eyes of wild fire, was female?

Nor did he love his last child, a second son with blond hair and green eyes, a second Lannister son.

It hurt Cersei, to see that her three children, her three little lion cubs, were not loved by the one who thought he was their father, and she swore to them silently every night, as she had done when they were first placed in her arms, to love them, to love them and to do everything to protect them, even if she had to kill, even if she had to kill herself.

And fortunately, there was Jaime and Tyrion.

Jaime, who taught Joffrey to fight with wooden swords and to ride ponies, who brought flowers for Myrcella, and who gave Tommen three little kittens.

Tyrion, who had always been ready to replace Cersei at a moment's notice to take care of the children when she needed a little rest, who read to them in the evening or when they were sick, even though Joffrey mocked him very often.

Robert had always been in the habit of disparaging his brothers-in-law in many ways.

He liked to be particularly violent and brutal with Cersei when he knew that Jaime was on duty guarding the door of his apartments, and asked him to go and get her himself to take her there, to lead her to the gates of hell.

It was he who had given him the nickname "Kingslayer", as a sign of honor and gratitude for the knight who had freed him from the throne.

And he never stopped mocking Tyrion, the Imp, as he called him, often calling him a monster, or half-man.

And, much to Cersei's chagrin, her eldest son had begun to imitate the man he thought was his father, mocking everyone and insulting his uncle, even though she kept trying to have him arrested.

* * *

When Tyrion entered his sister's apartments, he found her sitting at a table, alone, with a glass of red wine in her hand.

She looked out of the window with an absent air, the sunset illuminating the room with a soft orange light.

Tyrion, who felt even worse than usual, put his hand over hers, hoping to show him that he was there for her.

He saw that she was holding back her tears when she turned her head towards him, and looked at him with her beautiful green eyes.

"I'm sorry..." she blew.

"Why?'' he whispered.

"For Joffrey's behavior."

  
  


At those words, diamond tears streamed from her emerald eyes.

Tyrion rose from his chair and went to take her in his arms. She hugged him in turn, as if that might have allowed her grief to pass.

''I didn't want him to look like that... that pig... I wish he had looked more like Jaime... And now he's behaving horribly to you, just like Robert... I'm sorry...''.

"It's not your fault."

She untied herself from their embrace, and looked him in the eye.

''Yes, it's my fault... He doesn't listen to me... He doesn't listen to me anymore... I can tell him to stop, but he keeps going...''.

Her limpid green eyes always planted in his, she whispered to him again:

"I'm sorry, Tyrion..."

* * *

The years had passed and Lord Jon Arryn seemed more and more suspicious.

Every time Cersei crossed his gaze, she could not help but have the unpleasant impression that he was staring at her as if he was able to read all her secrets, without the slightest exception.

Perhaps this was the case?

* * *

Jaime was called to the Queen's apartments.

That was what Ser Barristan had told him when he came to find him.

Cersei barely opened the door and, as soon as he crossed the threshold, hurried to close it again.

She looked serious, and did not smile as usual when she saw Jaime.

He knew immediately, even without her having to open her mouth, that she had just learned something, at best compromising, at worst very serious.

He looked her in the eyes, in those eyes that he had looked at so much and in which he would never tire of diving, of drowning.

A long silence settled between them, a silence that was nothing like the long comfortable silences they often settled in and which spoke for them, they who had never needed words to say everything.

Reluctantly, as if she was about to confess something particularly unpleasant, Cersei finally said :

"He knows."

Jaime felt a deep panic overwhelm her. Robert knew? Did he know what? Did he know about him and Cersei? Did he know about the children? How could he know? Had someone told him?

Did anyone else know about them? How was it that they were still alive then? Why didn't their heads adorn the city walls?

He decided to ask for more details:

"Who knows what, exactly?

"Jon Arryn. He knows about us."

Jaime sighed, relieved.

"And what exactly does he know?"

"Everything. He knows about us, and he knows about the children."

"How?"

''Our sons and our daughter are the first Baratheons to be born with blond hair, not black. Somehow, he found out."

''And the King?''

''He doesn't know it yet.''

''Then what's the problem?''

Cersei looked at him as if he was the biggest fool there is.

''What's the problem? What do you think will happen, if he finds out, which he will soon?"

Jaime didn't answer.

''I'll tell you what's going to happen. Heads, spades, ramparts..."

He shrugged his shoulders.

''If Robert ever tries anything, I'll go to war with him.''

He walked over to Cersei, and took her in his arms.

She struggled for a moment, pounding her chest.

''Stop it, Jaime, I mean it.''

He restrained her, preventing her from hitting him any more, and made her turn around, so that his chin rested on her shoulder, caressing her hands with the tips of his fingers, and whispered in her ear:

"I promise you that Robert won't do anything. And if he touches any of your hair, or any of the children's, I will kill him. Him, Jon Arryn and everybody, the whole fucking kingdom until you, me and Tyrion are the only ones left in this world."

With that, he kissed her on the cheek.

And Cersei believed him, because Jaime never lied to her. Not to her.

* * *

The bells had not stopped ringing since the morning.

Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion sat at tables in Cersei's apartments, as they always did when they needed to talk.

It was Jaime who spoke first:

''Well, at least now we don't have to worry about what Jon Arryn knows or doesn't know. ''

Tyrion did not know what his brother was talking about. He took turns looking at them both, he and his sister.

''What do you mean, what Jon Arryn knows or doesn't know?''

Cersei looked at Jaime, then at him, and said:

''He knew about us and the children. He was about to tell Robert."

Tyrion didn't want to believe it.

He knew that his siblings were extremely protective of their blood, even more so if it was their offspring, their brother or one of them, but he did not want to believe that they would have killed Jon Arryn to stop him from speaking.

He asked in a white voice:

"So you killed him?"

Cersei and Jaime replied in one voice:

''What? No !''

Cersei continued, alone:

''It wasn't us. Neither Jaime nor I killed him. It was someone else."

''Yes, but who?''

It was Jaime's turn to answer:

''We don't know. And that's the problem."

"Are we sure he was murdered?"

Cersei looked at Jaime again, in one of their many silent consultations, and finally spoke:

''No, but the thesis of illness seems extremely unlikely. A man, certainly aging, but in full health, who falls ill overnight without explanation? It seems extremely unlikely. Personally, I would rather think it was poison. A quick and effective way to get rid of someone without raising too many questions.''

''Are we sure Robert doesn't know about you two?''

''Do you really think we'd be sitting across the table from you talking to you if Robert knew anything about this? No. Jon Arryn died before he had a chance to tell him."

Tyrion, as his brother and sister explained everything to him, realized something:

''But if he told anyone else, you'd be the ideal suspects.''

Jaime sighed.

''And that's the whole problem.''

Cersei took advantage of the silence between them.

''Since we're talking about Robert, he absolutely wants us to go to Winterfell.''

''What does the king want to go North to do? There's nothing there."

Cersei looked at her twin brother.

''There's the Starks there. Eddard Stark, to be more specific. I think Robert wants to ask him to be his Hand, now that Lord Arryn is dead."

''You don't look too happy about that prospect,'' Jaime remarked amused.

"I wish it had been you."

At his words, Jaime smiled frankly.

''It's an honor I can do without. Their days are too long and their lives too short. I'd rather Ned Stark had to spend his days running the kingdom while the king enjoys hunting whores and fucking boars, or maybe it's the other way around ?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on Cersei's lips, and Tyrion smiled widely at his brother's remark.

As Cersei began to move to get up, Tyrion asked her:

''Wait... You said Robert wanted us to go North... Who the hell is "we"?''

""We" is him, me, the children, and all that trail of fowl and snakes called "the Royal Court". Which means that you two are also part of the trip.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello !
> 
> We get a little closer to the beginning of the series with this chapter. ^^
> 
> Enjoy reading!
> 
> Black Angelis

**Chapter 4**

**oOo**

It all happened very quickly.

As soon as the announcement of the departure was made, Robert did not want to waste any time and linger longer than necessary in King’s Landing. Cersei suspected him of seeing this trip as an opportunity to feast in the North rather than an official trip to designate the new Hand of the King.

To say that Cersei was not thrilled with the expedition to those cold and distant lands she did not know was an understatement, and even the smiles of her children could no longer cheer her

up.

She didn't want to go.

She had briefly considered telling her husband that she intended to stay in King's Landing. Only for a brief moment. She knew perfectly well that Robert would not have been refused and that she would probably have received one or more bruises.

Cersei was the queen, and the queen was the king's shadow.

The night before departure, she remained locked in her room and spent the day moping, sitting on her bed with her head in her hands.

When the door to her room opened without warning, she was startled and relaxed as she recognized Tyrion. Her little brother hadn't looked so happy for several months: his eyes shining, he was whistling the melody of some song to drink. He frowned when he came to stand in front of her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said.

Cersei refrained from answering and ran her hand through her long golden hair to avoid looking at him.

She knew Tyrion was thrilled with what he liked to call a new adventure. His only travels were usually the ones he read about in the books he loved so much. The night before, during dinner, he had engaged in an enthusiastic description of the northern landscape. Neither Jaime nor Cersei were excited about the direwolves and the pine forests, but they had forced themselves to smile so they wouldn't be joy killers.

At least one member of the trio was looking forward to Winterfell - it was always a good idea.

Tyrion's smile quickly faded when he saw her scowling face.

"Something's wrong," he guessed.

He sat down next to her and covered her hand with his own.

"You know you can tell me anything.’’

Cersei hadn't told him about the growing anxiety that was rising inside her and spreading through her veins like poison, nor had she told Jaime about it, and she considered saying that everything was fine - she was a lioness, she was strong, she could overcome any ordeal.

But Tyrion's green eyes shone with a soft glow of benevolence, and when he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close to him, Cersei felt her resolve weaken.

"You can tell me anything, big sister," he repeated.

She bit her lip and finally gave in.

"You know... you know that the Kingsroad passes through uninhabited areas.’’

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

"Areas where there's not the slightest brothel for miles around.’’

Tyrion let out a small laugh.

"To my great despair...’’

But those bursts of amusement that rose from his throat in joyful notes died quickly, swallowed by the deafening silence that fell on the room, destroyed by the pain that appeared in Cersei's emeralds.

And Tyrion understood why the absence of brothels would prove to be particularly problematic.

"Cersei... "he began, his voice trembling.

She ran away from his gaze, tears in her eyes.

She knew exactly what was going to happen.

Robert's intrusions into her bed had become rarer and rarer as the years went by, to her great relief. Cersei couldn't even remember the last time he had crushed her with his weight - when, completely drunk, he found his way to her room and collapsed beside her, she made him enjoy it in other ways. He disgusted her so much that she felt dirty for days on end every time this happened.

Robert preferred the company of whores to his own, and it was good timing, there were plenty of them in King’s Landing.

But not on the Kingsroad.

Tyrion would open and close his mouth without finding what to say to her, which might have been comical under other circumstances - here, it was just to cry.

"He... he may not...’’

Cersei let out a joyless laugh.

Robert lived for three simple and trivial things: eating, drinking and fucking.

His physical needs had to be satisfied every night - she had had the bitter experience of it. If he didn't have whores at his disposal, he would naturally fall back on his queen.

Cersei felt like vomiting at the thought. Tears came to her eyes. The repeated rapes he had subjected her to suddenly came back to her memory and overwhelmed her, so much so that she already had the impression of suffocating, even though her husband's repulsive body wasn't yet crushing hers.

"Jaime and I won't let him do it," he said with a burning flame in his eyes.

"I'm his wife, Tyrion," she answered resignedly. "I belong to him. My body belongs to him. He is free to use it as he pleases.’’

"No."

His voice clacked in the air, like a lion's roar.

"This is not how a husband should treat his wife. A husband should be kind and considerate to his beloved, he should never force her to do anything.’’

When he would engage in this kind of discourse, Cersei would perceive the romantic breath that came directly from his favorite books, those that spoke of valiant knights and beautiful princesses, songs of love and hope that always had a happy ending.

Sometimes Cersei admired Tyrion for managing to keep his childlike soul in this viper's nest. She had lost it a long time ago.

"A good husband ... a good husband should be like Jaime," he concluded with some sadness.

Despite herself, Cersei began to dream of a world where she would be Jaime's wife, a world where she would wake up next to him every morning and they wouldn't have to hide.

The memory of Robert's disgusting groans shattered the fantasy.

"It's going to be okay," Tyrion said. "You'll never have to suffer his presence in your bed again, you hear me?’’

Cersei was too tired to protest, to tell him that he was getting ideas and that no one could fight against the crowned deer, not even two lions ready to do anything to defend their sister.

There was a burning conviction in Tyrion's voice, yet his eyes were immersed in hers, two emeralds that had never lied to her, never.

"He will never hurt you again. I promise you that.’’

Because she loved him, Cersei decided to trust him.

"Okay," she whispered as he hugged her again.

When he put a hand on the back of her neck, she couldn't hold back a violent shiver.

_And when your tears have drowned you, the hands of the valonqar will tighten around your white throat and make you exhale your last breath of life._

For a split second, it was no longer Robert that Cersei was afraid.

When Tyrion stepped away from her and offered her a small smile that showed her affection, she didn't know how she found the strength to smile back at him.

* * *

(Tyrion could never hurt her, could he?  _Could he?_ ).

* * *

As soon as he left Cersei's room, Tyrion didn't waste a moment and went in search of Jaime. He found him in the armory, polishing his sword with great care.

"I dream of the day when I'll drive it into Robert's belly," he let go as he watched him approach, not bothering to lower his voice.

Tyrion winced and made sure no one was around to hear them. Jaime had an unfortunate tendency to be particularly careless when mentioning the king, and he couldn't help worrying about it: he knew that their brother-in-law would be far from appreciating the nicknames his wife's twin brother had and the promises of a slow and painful death that regularly crossed his lips.

"Exactly," Tyrion replied without raising his voice. "About Robert...’’

The tone he had used indicated to Jaime that something was wrong, and that this something was most likely Cersei's concern. Forsaking his sword, he turned to him, looking worried.

Then Tyrion, after repressing a sigh, told him of their sister's concerns about what might happen on their journey.

"If he touches her, I'll kill him.’’

Jaime's voice had turned into a threatening roar. His emeralds had begun to blaze, as if his eyes were nothing more than two puddles of wildfire ready to ignite in a deadly explosion.

Jaime had said these words thousands of times since Cersei had married Robert eighteen years earlier, and if he had never been able to carry out that threat, Tyrion knew he was not kidding.

It was like a promise he would hold onto every morning so he wouldn't explode at the sight of all the extinguished stars in Cersei's eyes, a stubborn mantra he would repeat to himself to find the strength to endure the humiliation he was inflicting on their family.

One day Jaime Lannister would kill Robert Baratheon. That was a certainty.

One day, only one day, and that long-awaited moment was not about to come - Jaime and Tyrion both knew it.

"You know it's not possible," Tyrion reminded him.

"So what are you suggesting? That we let him rape her every night? ‘’

The voice of one who aspired to be twice a Kingslayer had become drier, colder - more hurtful. He seemed to realize this as he sighed long and hard.

He said, "I'm sorry. It's just that imagining it drives me crazy and...’’

"Jaime," Tyrion interrupted him. "I know.’’

It drove him crazy too. Horrible images swirled in his mind, he could already see Cersei's desperate look and hear her groans of pain, the only ones Robert had ever been able to take from her.

It was intolerable.

Even though his only experiences were with prostitutes, Tyrion had always treated the women who shared his bed well, and that was why they liked him so much - he wasn't like some of their clients who left sky-colored spots on their skin.

He wasn't Robert, and he never would be.

Tyrion walked over to Jaime and put a hand on his arm.

He said, "Don't worry. I've got an idea.’’

* * *

Cersei was unable to relax.

They had been riding for barely a day, and as the capital rode away behind their backs, she couldn't shake the idea that something was going to go wrong.

Her only comfort was watching her children. Myrcella and Tommen chatted enthusiastically as they looked out over the landscape with round eyes - it was the first time they had ever left King's Landing. While Tommen had been very disappointed that he couldn't take his cat with him, he was quickly reassured when Tyrion whispered to him in a conspiratorial tone that with a little luck they might see direwolves in the North.

Joffrey was riding alongside Robert, which Cersei did not like at all. She would have preferred that he spend a little more time with Jaime, but Joffrey felt nothing but disdain and contempt for the knight his supposed father hated.

Every time her first-born child was insulting Jaime or Tyrion, Cersei felt as if she was being slapped in the face. She loved Joffrey, she loved him more than anything else, he was her flesh, her blood, her lion cub, but his attitude left her completely helpless.

Sometimes, to reassure herself, she told herself that things were going to change, that he was still young and that it would pass him by one day but, for some inexplicable reason, she could never quite believe it.

When they stopped for the night, Robert disappeared with an escort and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Tonight, she was going to sleep well.

She took advantage of the darkness to get away from the royal procession. Jaime, who had noticed her ride, also managed to slip away discreetly and follow in her footsteps.

No sooner were they out of sight than Jaime grabbed her by the waist and captured her lip in a long, sweet kiss.

"Jaime," she whispered, casting anxious glances around them. "Not here. Someone might see us.’’

"There's no one," he replied.

And, as if to back up his words, he stole another kiss from her and kissed her on the neck. When he held her close to him, Cersei closed her eyes and let the sweet feeling of fullness that she cherished more than anything else overwhelm her.

It was during those moments when they were braving the forbidden that she felt truly alive, that she remembered why she hadn't thrown herself from the highest tower of the Red Keep, even though the urge to do so had overwhelmed her several times.

They were startled when someone cleared his throat.

"I'm disturbing?" Tyrion asked almost timidly.

Amused, they shook their heads.

"You never disturbed us, little brother," Jaime said, tousling his hair.

Tyrion laughed.

"That's not what you said on the day I caught you having...’’

"Okay, okay, almost never," Jaime corrected.

All three of them puffed.

"Are you coming? "said Tyrion. "Myrcella and Tommen are wondering where you are, Cersei."

" We're following you.’’

She and Jaime exchanged a last kiss before following their little brother. At that moment, Cersei was no longer thinking of Robert at all. She was going to spend the evening with her family, with her herd of lions - nothing else mattered.

* * *

It didn't last, of course.

On the third day, they temporarily left all traces of civilization, and as she watched the trees that stretched as far as the eye could see, Cersei realized that she could not escape her marital duty one more night.

Robert must have had the same thought as she had caught him undressing her with his eyes several times during the day. Even though he despised her as much as she despised him, she was still an attractive woman and, above all, a woman he could dispose of as he pleased.

You've been through worse, Cersei. You are a lioness. You will remain standing.

She tried by all means to reassure herself, to prove to herself that, after all, it wasn't so bad, that she had gone through it hundreds and hundreds of times, but nothing helped.

It would be just as painful as the first time and all those that followed, and her soul would be as bruised as her body.

Jaime couldn't get a smile out of her, and neither could Tyrion. Cersei was far too distracted to notice that they were exchanging low masses.

"Are you sure this is going to work? "Jaime asked every five minutes.

"Absolutely.’’

"If it doesn't work, I'll kill him. This time I will.’’

When night came, they stopped at a small inn which unfortunately was not near any brothel, and so it was with resignation that Cersei waited for the arrival of her husband, alone in the darkness, her heart beating wildly.

Robert was drunk when he leaned over her and spread his legs without even looking her in the eye.

"Robert... I don't feel like it. Please," she said in desperation.

He didn't even seem to hear her, so Cersei closed her eyes to keep her tears from flowing and waited.

Nothing happened. No intrusion tore her apart from the inside.

When she opened her eyes, she realized that Robert had collapsed next to her. He was sound asleep.

Cersei held her breath and believed in a miracle. How could this be possible? It was as if an invisible club had fallen on the king's head. Had the gods finally heard her prayers after all these years of silence?

A bitter laughter rose up her throat. The gods had no mercy: that's why they were gods. That hard lesson Father had taught him was still deeply rooted in her mind.

There were gods watching over her, but they were certainly not the Seven.

Without a sound, Cersei got up and slipped out of the room before entering the next room.

Her gods were her brothers.

Tyrion and Jaime weren't asleep when she slipped into the room they shared. Tyrion read by candlelight while Jaime looked up at the ceiling with one arm under his head.

They pointed their emeralds at her as soon as they saw her enter.

"You put something in his glass," she said, her eyes shining.

They stood up and sighed with relief.

"It was Tyrion's idea," said Jaime. "Essence of belladonna. That's what I put in his glass while he was ogling the innkeeper's daughter.’’

Cersei noticed that her legs were shaking.

Tyrion and Jaime had saved her.

They had spared her from another rape, another humiliation, another wound on her body.

Overwhelmed by all the falling tension, she broke down in tears and staggered to bed before slipping in between her brothers. There was barely enough room for the three of them, but Cersei didn't care. Jaime and Tyrion had saved her: there was nowhere else she wanted to be right now.

"Thank you," she whispered as Jaime stroked her hair.

"I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you anymore," Tyrion said. "Tomorrow he won't remember anything.’’

Touched, Cersei smiled at him and kissed him on the forehead.

"Thank you, little brother.’’

She thought that she would probably be better off in her own bed, but the mere thought that Robert was snoring there disgusted her.

"Can I stay with you?’’

Jaime kissed her on the temple.

"You don't have to ask.’’

"Will you wake me up before dawn?’’

It was important that no one found her here - she didn't dare imagine what Robert would think if he caught her in the same bed with her brothers. Cersei was playing with fire, she was aware of this, but she knew she could not bear the presence of her husband by her side for an entire night.

"Of course we will.’’

"Try not to make me fall out of bed... "Tyrion slid as he guffawed.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'll do my best.’’

Cersei fell asleep without difficulty. She knew that as long as Jaime and Tyrion were around, everything would be fine.

(Not for a moment did she think that their trio might one day be separated - after all, she couldn't see the future).

* * *

The essence of belladonna was a true blessing.

It was what Cersei thought about in the weeks that followed: it was the liquid that saved her from Robert's brutal assaults every night and she could never express how grateful she was to Jaime and Tyrion.

They had almost reached their destination. The weather was getting colder, the scenery was changing and Cersei felt out of place in this foreign land.

On the outskirts of Winterfell, as Myrcella and Tommen were getting more and more enthusiastic, Tyrion gave up going to a brothel to stay with her and Jaime.

"It can wait," he told them. "You're more important. Three lions won't be too many to enter the wolves' den, will they?’’

Cersei smiles with amusement.

"That's for sure. »

She didn't have the slightest desire to see Ned Stark again. She knew exactly how he felt about Jaime and their family - he despised them outright. He wore his honor like armor and, just like Robert, could see no further than the tip of his nose.

That's probably why they got along so well.

That's probably why Cersei hated him too.

Thinking that he was going to return with them to King's Landing didn't delight him in the least.

"Don't make that face," Tyrion said, putting one hand on his arm. "It's going to be all right, you'll see.’’

Cersei shrugged, unconvinced, but Jaime, after making sure Robert was nowhere in sight, took her hand.

"Whatever happens, we'll be together, alright ?’’

Tyrion nodded his head.

"Together.’’

Then Cersei, despite herself, nodded slowly.

"Together.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave us a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not our mother tongue.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> We meet again for this week's chapter of "Hear Us Roar".
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> Good reading!
> 
> SMcg1704

The first thing that Cersei noticed as she passed through the gates of Winterfell was the sinister look that all the castle inhabitants had when the royal procession entered the courtyard.

She had never been to the North, but she had studied it, like every region of the Seven Kingdoms, which her father had insisted that she should remember every nook and cranny of it, and it was a common joke in the capital, to say that the Northmen were as sinister as their country, but she had never really paid much attention to it.

But when she saw the burial head that all these people had, she began to seriously believe it.

This was all the more astonishing in view of the ridiculous spectacle that Robert was offering them, who, because of his imposing belly, found himself in great difficulty when he had to get off his huge black steed. In King's Landing, this would have triggered general hilarity, not directly in front of the king, of course, this bunch of vipers still held on to their heads, but as soon as his back was turned, the mocking murmurs would have quickly spread through the crowd.

But not here, apparently. In Winterfell, everyone bowed respectfully to this pitiful sight.

Once he had managed to dismantle it, Robert went to stand in front of Ned Stark, who, like his people, always had his head down, without either of them uttering a single word, and the boar made a hand gesture to his long-time friend, inviting him to get up.

It was when everyone was standing on his two feet, and Robert and Eddard had exchanged a few banalities (by the Seven, that the Stark could be austere...), that Cersei saw her.

In the middle of this dull set of colors, black, brown, beige, gray, she saw a pretty red mane, and two blue eyes, the same color as the waves that broke on the cliffs of the Rock.

Sansa Stark. It could only be her.

Cersei knew that Robert was planning to marry Joffrey to the Stark girl, just to make the alliance between the crown stag and the direwolf houses. At least the young lady was beautiful, one could not take that away from her.

Thinking of this, it was the thought of an old prophecy, very old prophecy, buried in the meanders of her spirit that resurfaced.

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

Cersei looked at Tyrion and Jaime, Tyrion standing beside her, and Jaime a little further away, just off his horse, too, as Robert embraced Catelyn Stark with more warmth than he had ever shown his wife in seventeen years of marriage, and drove the thought from his mind.

She, in her turn, stepped forward before Lord of Winterfell, who bowed respectfully to her too, and kissed her hand on her ring.

A heavy silence settled briefly between them, a silence that Robert broke when he ordered Ned Stark in his thunderous voice:

"Take me to your crypt, Ned.''

Cersei replied, without really succeeding in knowing if it was really her voice which had just spoken or if it was the voice of the queen of the shadow, the shadow of the king, and while knowing perfectly well that, whoever spoke, the boar which proclaimed itself king would not care about it:

''We have been riding for a whole month, my love. Dead surely can wait.''

And, without even deigning to look at her, or give her the slightest sign of recognition or consideration, Robert nodded to Ned, who found himself obliged to take his friend wherever he asked him, but not before plunging his gray eyes into Cersei's green irises, who found a look of pity, compassion, and something else that clearly didn't please her, like suspicion.

Did Eddard suspect her of Jon Arryn's brutal death?

But she didn't have time to find any more answers than Ned had already taken Robert.

And Cersei just stood there.

She was drawn from her thoughts by a small female voice, that of the youngest of the Stark girls, Arya, if she had followed correctly, who asked her sister:

"Where is the Imp?''

Knowing well who she wanted to talk about, because she had heard Robert call her little brother that many times, despite the fact that she had already asked him to stop, Cersei turned around and saw that Tyrion was no longer next to Jaime.

Turning around to go and stand beside her twin brother, she whispered to him:

"Where is our brother ?''

Jaime shrugged, not knowing where Tyrion was either.

"Can you go get him, please?''

He put his hand gently on her arm, discreetly, and nodded silently, before letting go and leaving.

* * *

Jaime walked through the small stone houses that surrounded Winterfell Castle, slaloming between the sad-faced Nothermen and the horses in search of his little brother.

He stopped when, coming from a hut a little bigger than the ones around him, smoke came out of the chimney and laughter resounded, most of it female laughter. He had a small smile.

He knew exactly where Tyrion was.

* * *

Tyrion smiled.

He was in heaven.

Accompanied by a prostitute with a pretty face, beautiful brown curls and pink dimples, he was lying on a bed in the brothel he had seen with Jaime and Cersei when he arrived at Winterfell.

He felt a little guilty, all the same. He had left Cersei alone when Robert had totally despised and scorned her in front of the entire Stark family and their household.

As the girl began to kiss his lower abdomen, he changed his mind.

But no, Cersei was not alone. Cersei was with Jaime.

''Do you know the king is at Winterfell?''

Tyrion looked down on the whore.

''I vaguely heard about it.''

''And the queen, and her twin brother. They say he's the most handsome man in the Seven Kingdoms.''

Oh, yes, and Tyrion knew that all too well. Yes, Jaime was tall, yes, Jaime was muscular, yes, Jaime was handsome, yes, Jaime was a knight, a Kingsguard knight, the finest of the Knights of Westeros, yes, Jaime was the perfect heir to Casterly Rock.

That was what his father had been telling him since birth.

He didn't need the girls of joy he chose to remind him of it too.

He noticed the naughty smile on the young woman's face, and decided to take it as a game.

''What about her other brother?''

"Does the queen have two brothers?''

''Well, there's the good-looking one, and the smart one.''

''They say he's known as ''the Imp''."

So the nickname that Robert had given him in the capital was known even in the North. He was absolutely delighted.

But he didn't let the irritation show through in his features, and continued to smile.

"They say he hates the nickname."

But the whore continued to let her lips hang all over his body, while saying:

''Oh, they say he deserves that nickname. They say he's a debauchee and a drunkard prone to all sorts of perversions."

Well, his reputation obviously preceded him.

"You're not stupid, aren't you ?"

"We have been expecting you, Lord Tyrion."

But as Tyrion began to kiss the girl back, the door opened on the fly.

The prostitute (Rose perhaps? No, Ros), turned around, and Tyrion could see Jaime standing in the doorway frame in his Kingsguard armor. His brother entered the room completely, having to bend down to get through without bumping into it, and asking Ros not to get up again.

''Do I need to explain to you what a closed door in a brothel means, bro?''

''You probably have a lot to teach me.''

Jaime closed the door, and went to get a mug of the brown beer that was served in the North and replaced the red wine from Dorne or The Arbor traditionally imported and served in King's Landing.

He resumed, after taking a long shake of his bitter drink:

''The Starks are giving a banquet tonight in our honor: don't leave us alone with these people.''

Tyrion smiled at his remark. Of course not, he had no intention of leaving Jaime and Cersei alone at tonight's party. After all, they still had to find a way to pour the belladonna into Robert's glass or food. There was no way they would let this pig rape or molest their sister that night, any more than there had been any question of letting him do so on the trip from the capital.

''I'm sorry: I started the banquet a little early, and this...'' He pointed to Ros. ''...is only the first of many dishes.''

Jaime smiled broadly at his remark.

'''I was expecting you to say that. But since we are running out of time...''

He went to open the door, and a line of several girls slipped into the room.

Tyrion also smiled when he saw that Jaime didn't even look at the girls, who were all undressed, when they entered the room. He knew.

For Jaime, there was only one woman who mattered, there was only one woman who had always mattered. He had never been in a brothel, never known any other girl or woman except Cersei.

It was the most beautiful proof of love he could give her, something Robert was not even aware of: fidelity.

Jaime went out.

''Come on, see you tonight...''

Tyrion shouted at him to close the door behind him, but Jaime did not, and went out of his sight.

* * *

The atmosphere in the room was stifling.

There was an astonishing warmth, due to the fact that people crowded on top of each other, laughing, drinking, eating.

Cersei sat next to Catelyn Stark, bored to death.

Robert was sitting in the middle of the room, having lured a serving girl to his lap, shamelessly beating her on the buttocks, with a lustful look of lust on his face, and not giving a glance to his queen sitting on the platform, before whom he allowed himself to be displayed with no modesty or respect.

Cersei stared at him with indifference, her beautiful green eyes with an empty expression, looking at him almost without seeing him.

After all, it was sad, it was horrible to say, but she was used to being ignored, to being ignored as if she didn't exist.

Her father had often done this with her when she was little, until she was bleeding, and later she got married, and her husband had never had any consideration for her.

Why would anything have changed?

The only two people who really loved her outside of these children and did not see her for the way they could dispose of her body or the profit they could make from it were Jaime and Tyrion.

Besides, she didn't know where they were. She hadn't seen them since their arrival, and she hoped they were looking for a discreet way to administer the essence of belladonna to Robert. She felt like throwing up at the thought that the urge to visit her bed might take over Robert that night.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by Catelyn Stark who had, like her, been silent for quite some time, but who was obviously in the mood for conversation.

''Is this your first trip to the North, Your Grace?''

''Yes,'' replied Cersei in an absent-minded manner, not having the slightest desire to chat, ''Lovely country.''

''It must seem very gloomy to you, after King's Landing. I remember being terrified the first time Ned brought me here.''

But Cersei wouldn't listen anymore, if she had really listened to Lady Stark at all.

She looked intently at young Sansa, who was sitting at the table with her friends, as the prophecy continued to resonate in her head.

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

She must not be as discreet as she thinks she is, because Sansa's friend sitting next to her leans over to whisper something in her ear, and just a fraction of a second later, the girl gets up and walks to the stage with a big smile on her face.

When she sees her coming towards her, the only thing Cersei can think of is how much Sansa looks like her at the same age.

A pretty, innocent young girl, with dreams probably full in her head, dreams of a crown and prince charming, of a happy marriage and love stories beautiful enough to become songs.

In Cersei's case, these dreams never came true. The crown weighs on her shoulders as misery weighs on the world, there is no more Prince Charming, his is tall and handsome and muscular with golden hair and green eyes, and his crown is of flowers and gold, a lioness's crown, but her husband has nothing of Prince Charming, the dream has faded, dissipated, flown away, like the bird that is all women trapped in unhappy marriages.

Sansa appears before her, all smiles, with beautiful pink dimples, and her big blue eyes, blue as the ocean.

Cersei smiles back at her, a hypocritical smile, a smile that has nothing true, nothing real, but that, Sansa, is too innocent to discern it, to know it.

''Hello little dove. You are a real beauty.''

At these words, Sansa's smile becomes even bigger, she is flattered, so flattered, to be complimented in this way by the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, by the most beautiful woman of the Seven Crowns, by the Queen, no less.

Cersei asks her a few questions, how old are you, you're still growing up, have you ever bled, but never forgetting the nasal and buzzing voice of the witch, of Maggy the Frog who continues to whisper in her ear.

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

To the last question, Sansa hesitates, doesn't answer right away, looks at her mother, as if she was going to give him the answer, before finally answering that no, she hasn't bled, not yet, and seems extremely embarrassed, as if Cersei had just reminded her that she was nothing, not yet, that she couldn't be the queen yet, that she's still too young, that she can't take her place, that the day when she will slaughter her and strip her of all her treasures has not yet come.

Just to put her at ease, Cersei pays her another compliment, your dress is superb, you have a lot of talent, and Sansa smiles again, then leaves.

Once Sansa has returned to her table, Cersei looks at Catelyn, and says, almost reluctantly:

''They say we'll have a grandchild in common.''

''I hear it say it, too.''

''Your daughter will do well in the capital. Such beauty should not remain hidden here forever.''

_Queen you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

And not a word is uttered again, silence settles in between.

* * *

Jaime entered the room, followed by Tyrion.

They had agreed that Jaime was to divert Ned Stark's attention while Tyrion poured the belladonna into Robert's glass.

This was usually not a problem, because Robert never paid attention to what he ate or drank.

But Lord Eddard was attentive, and might eventually notice what Robert was not afraid of happening right under his nose.

So Jaime walked towards the Lord of Winterfell, who was trying to make his way through the crowd of people who were blocking his way.

Ned accidentally ran into Jaime, who was taller and now more muscular than he was.

''Excuse me.((

''They say we'll soon be neighbors. I hope that's true.

"Yes, the king has honored me with his offer.''

''We will surely have a tournament to celebrate your new title, if you accept. It would be nice to see you on the field again. We're in a bit of a rut because there's no fight.''

Eddard tried to force his way through, but it was a wasted effort.

"I don't play in tournaments.''

''No? Would you be too old for that?''

''I don't fight in tournaments, because when I fight a man for real, I don't want him to know what I can do. ''

Jaime saw Tyrion a little further away, who nodded his head, and Jaime knew that what they had planned had worked.

''Beautifully said" he smiled to Ned Stark, before finally letting him pass.

He watched the Northman walk away and walk towards the king, who was now so drunk that his face was all red, and he laughed even more than before, for no apparent reason.

The room had begun to empty, and only Cersei and Catelyn remained on the stage.

He noticed that Robert was leaving the room, accompanied by several girls, still hilarious.

He looked at Cersei, who wasn't talking to her neighbor, who seemed bored, and walked towards her.

He felt Catelyn's blue eyes turn towards him as he approached his twin.

''I am sorry, Lady Stark, but the King has just left to go to his apartments, and I thought the Queen might like to do the same.''

Cersei didn't waste a second to get up and, thanking Lady Stark for her "gracious company," she walked around the dais, taking the arm her brother held out to her to walk down the steps.

Once they arrived at the apartments that had been prepared for the queen, Jaime kissed Cersei tenderly, holding her close to him, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder in a rare moment of peace. After a few minutes, when not a word was spoken, they withdrew from the embrace, and Jaime kissed her sister's forehead, telling her that he would be at her door if she needed anything.

* * *

The next day, the king had decided that it would be pleasant to go hunting, and miraculously succeeded in training Ned and his Northmen to follow him.

The castle and the court were almost completely deserted, except for a couple of maids who hung out in the dark corridors of Winterfell.

Jaime, who had taken the time to visit the building, had found an old tower, which seemed to be abandoned, or at least where there was nothing and no one.

He had smiled and brought Cersei there, thinking it would be good for both of them to spend some time together.

And he had been right.

Once at the top of the tower, in a room that was almost empty, except for the beams and ivy that were growing there, Jaime had kissed Cersei on the lips, a kiss that she had given back to him with ardor, not having to worry for once about the indiscreet maids who might burst in without warning or the guards who were just across the door.

But at the supreme moment of their union, Cersei gasped particularly loudly. Jaime, thinking it was a groan of desire, kissed her again with force, until Cersei pushed him away, telling him to stop:

"Stop. Stop!''

Thinking at first that he had been too rough on her and hurt her, Jaime quickly withdrew, looking at her with incomprehension.

He noticed that she was staring at the window and then saw what had alerted her.

The second of the Stark boys was standing in the window frame.

As he began to move backward and almost fell, Jaime rushed toward him.

''You're out of your mind!''

He heard Cersei's voice behind him.

''He saw us!''

He grabbed the child by the jacket, reassuring him in his grip and preventing him from falling.

Cersei, thinking he hadn't listened to her, repeated what she had told him.

''He has seen us!''

Jaime turned slightly toward his sister.

''I heard you the first time.''

He leaned over, wondering how the boy had gotten up there.

Not seeing any stairs or ladders, he deduced that the child must have climbed up.

''You're quite a little climber," he said ''How old are you, boy?''

''Ten''

''Ten'' he repeated.

He turned completely to Cersei, still holding the boy.

He looked at her intensely, but didn't need more than a few seconds to make his decision.

He would do anything, anything for her, anything in his power to protect her.

''Things I do for love...''

And he pushed the child out the window.

Cersei gasped.

''Jaime...''

He walked towards her and took her in his arms.

''It's okay, it's okay... No one will know what really happened, no one will know anything, no one will know about us...''

Then he kissed her on the temple as she buried her face in the hollow of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please take the time to leave us a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^  
> Don't be too hard on English, it is not our mother tongue.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello !
> 
> I am absolutely sorry that it took so long for this chapter to arrive and I hope you will forgive us for the wait! We find ourselves today with the first big canon divergence from the series :).
> 
> Have a good reading!
> 
> Black Angelis

Hear Us Roar

Chapter 6

oOo

Struck with horror, Cersei was totally unable to make the slightest movement for long seconds.

Jaime had pushed the boy out the window.

Jaime had killed the boy.

Jaime had killed Eddard Stark's son under his own roof.

If they were found there... if they were found there while the boy's body lay lifeless at the bottom of the tower...

"Quick, Cersei," Jaime pressed her. "Get dressed. We mustn't be found here."

But Cersei could not move. So what, it was going to end like that? All those years of stolen kisses and hidden hugs, of caution and lies - it was going to end so abruptly? So stupidly?

"Cersei!"

Jaime's tone became drier. Cersei crossed his eyes and saw the reflection of her own panic.

"Please hurry, we have no time to lose!"

As if he had slapped her, she came to her senses. All was not lost. If they got out of here in a hurry, no one would ever know the whole story. The boy had fallen several meters, he was bound to be dead - he wouldn't talk.

She and Jaime could get away - no, they were going to get away. They had to.

Her fingers were shaking so much that she was struggling to lace up her dress - Jaime had to help her. Their fingers intertwined briefly and he pressed her forehead against his. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for her to understand what he wanted to tell her.

We will get through this together, as we always have.

Her twin took her hand and both of them rushed down the stairs. They didn't linger near the boy's body, barely paying attention to his wolf, which continued to bark. No one was in sight, that was the main thing.

Cersei did not allow herself to breathe until they returned to the castle corridors.

"Try to look natural," Jaime whispered to her.

The ease with which he donned a mask of impassivity left her speechless, and then she remembered the Mad King and all that he had endured during his reign - and in a way, all that he still endured while serving Robert. Jaime knew how to hide his emotions, perhaps better than she ever could.

They met no one but a few servants who greeted them respectfully. Ned Stark and Robert wouldn't be back from the hunt for several hours, and so much the better.

Jaime walked her back to her room but did not follow her inside.

"I'll keep you posted," he whispered as she stood in the doorway.

Her throat tightened, she nodded. Jaime began to move, as if he was going to kiss her, but at the last moment he changed his mind and looked dark. Cersei understood her reserve: hadn't they played with fire enough for today? Finally, she put her hand on his cheek and he covered it with his own, as a compromise.

"See you later," he concluded.

The door closed.

Cersei let herself slide against the wall and took her head in her hands.

What in Gods' name would happen now?

.

Jaime was trying to determine the best attitude to adopt. Should he go and see what was going on near the tower or should he stay as far away as possible? As he wandered through the halls, he could not resist the temptation to throw a raging punch into the wall.

Why did this kid have to decide to climb the tower at this very moment? One hour, one hour alone with Cersei, that was all he had wanted. Why had he had to come and ruin everything (and also put their lives and those of their children in danger, at the same time)?

"Jaime? What are you doing here?"

Tyrion, who was passing by, frowned when he saw him.

"Nothing," he replied in a falsely detached tone. "What about you? I thought you were in a brothel."

"I've just come from there. I thought you were with Cersei in her room."

Jaime shrugged his shoulders and decided in a split second that he wasn't going to involve Tyrion in this story. His little brother was not to know. He could easily imagine how he would blame him if he found out about the incident and he was not in the mood for a sermon on his lack of caution.

On the other hand, in the event that he and Cersei were discovered (and for God's sake, he prayed to all the gods that this wouldn't happen), Tyrion had to be in complete ignorance. Jaime couldn't bear to have him pay for a mistake he had made.

Tyrion looked at him suspiciously. He had sensed that something was wrong, Jaime would have put his hand to it. Uncomfortable, he offered to take a few steps with him. Soon they couldn't ignore the restless murmurs that were spreading around them. Catelyn Stark pushed them around without even noticing them and rushed out of the castle.

Jaime swallowed.

That could only mean one thing.

The boy's body had been discovered.

"Let's go see what's going on," Tyrion suggested.

Jaime forced himself to remain impassive when they heard Catelyn's almost inhuman scream of pain.

He had had no choice. The boy - Bran, if he remembered correctly - had seen him and Cersei. The children were talking, it was well known. He would have repeated everything to his older brother or, worse, to his father. And the noble Ned Stark would have had no choice but to put his great friend the king on notice, wouldn't he?

Cersei and their children were in danger.

All Jaime had done was protect them.

When, following Tyrion outside to the old tower and making his way through the crowd, he saw that the boy was still breathing, Jaime felt the ground crumble beneath his feet for the second time that day.

.

That day was a nightmare.

Sitting on her bed, Cersei was worried to death. A little earlier, she had ventured out of her room and what she had learned had left her completely desperate.

The boy had survived his fall.

He was alive.

And the living spoke.

Robert had returned from hunting. She was expecting him to burst into the room any minute to tell her of her death sentence - not without beating her first, of course.

And even if the boy didn't wake up... was it possible to find out who had pushed him out the window?

In any case, she was a dead. Jaime was a dead.

Their children were dead.

Her thoughts were racing around in an anarchic way. Was it possible that the boy didn't understand what he was seeing? He was so young... What if Jaime had pushed him for nothing? What if they were being executed for a murder that wasn't necessary?

Another ball of anguish got stuck in her throat. Oh, if only they hadn't climbed to the top of that damn tower... they should have barricaded themselves in her room. There, at least, no one would have surprised them.

(In fact, they simply should have refrained until they got back to King's Landing, but Cersei was certainly not going to admit that. She couldn't stand feeling like she was committing a crime every time she made love with Jaime).

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock on the door. She knew exactly who it was.

When she opened it, Jaime quickly snuck into the room and closed it behind him. There was no emotion in his eyes.

"So?" she asked, breaking the thoughtful silence.

"He's still alive."

She turned away angrily. Fear, frustration, anger, all these negative emotions were building up and making her bubble.

"How could you be so stupid," Cersei said.

"Calm down," Jaime said.

"He's a child," she replied without paying attention to what he said. "A ten-year-old, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of us. It's a little late to blame me now."

Jaime was right, of course. Cersei bit her lip.

"He didn't wake up," Jaime said. "And hopefully he won't wake up, okay?"

Cersei shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't shake the idea that this story was going to fall on them somehow.

"If he tells his father what he saw..."

"We'll say he lied, we'll say he dreamed, we'll say whatever we like. He is ten years old, Cersei. No one listens to what the children say."

The silence fell for a few moments.

"And Tyrion? "she asked.

"What about Tyrion?"

"What does he know?"

"Nothing. And he will know nothing."

Cersei crossed her arms on her chest. Their little brother was so perceptive... keeping the truth from him was going to be a miracle.

Just as soon as he said these words, Tyrion entered without even knocking.

He said, "Are you coming? It's dinnertime, and I'm starving."

His smile died on his lips as he sensed the tension in the room. Cersei sighed inwardly. He was about to understand. Of course he was going to understand.

"We're on our way," she replied in a tone that wasn't at all too dry.

After one last look, Tyrion slipped away, closing the door behind him. Cersei was about to follow him when two arms wrapped around her waist.

"Let me go," she squeaked as she tried to free herself.

She wasn't in the mood for kisses and hugs.

"Never," Jaime replied, tightening his grip on her.

His breath was warm on the back of her neck. Cersei stopped struggling and turned around. They looked into each other's eyes for a long time.

"You're a fool, Jaime," she grumbled. "A beautiful golden fool."

And she left the room without worrying whether he was following her or not.

.

The next day, when he joined Cersei and Jaime for breakfast, Tyrion already knew something was wrong. He had a firm hunch that Bran's mysterious fall and the twins' strange behavior were connected.

This was confirmed when he told them that according to the maester, the boy had a chance of survival. Oh, he knew that gleam in their eyes...

However, he couldn't say anything in front of the children. So he decided to tackle another subject: his expedition to the Wall.

"I still can't believe you're going," Cersei said annoyed.

"Where's your sense of adventure, dear sister?" he ironed.

A new look between Cersei and Jaime. Did they take him for an idiot and think he hadn't noticed anything?

Oh, as soon as he was alone with them, he wouldn't miss them...

But he had to be patient. The opportunity did not present itself until a few hours later, when the children were busy packing their suitcases. Jaime and Cersei stopped talking when he entered her room.

Without a word, he came and stood in front of them.

He said, "What's up?"

They had the decency to look down.

"Don't try to lie to me," he warned. "I'll know at once."

Cersei breathed a long sigh and let herself fall on the bed. Jaime, suddenly very tired, leaned against the wall.

"Yesterday we slipped into the old tower. The boy climbed up and saw us. I was..."

"What do you mean, he saw you? What were you doing?"

"Don't pretend to be stupid, Tyrion, it doesn't work for you," Cersei said.

When she saw her wounded expression, she looked down in shame.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was only a whisper.

"He saw us," Jaime repeated. "I... I had no choice. I couldn't risk him talking."

"You pushed him," Tyrion understood.

He held back a long exasperated sigh with great sorrow. By all the gods, what trouble had they got themselves into?

"I suppose you couldn't help yourselves?" he mocked.

Cersei and Jaime happily refrained from answering. This was not the time for an argument. Tyrion tried to think of a way to get them out of it, but to his despair, he found nothing. Their fate rested entirely on that of the Stark boy. When he saw his body on the ground, Tyrion had felt sorry for him, and he still did, but he couldn't help but wish that he hadn't recovered.

If he had to make a choice between Bran and his brother and sister, it would be made in a split second.

Without warning, Cersei burst into tears. Jaime stepped forward, but Tyrion was the fastest and took his sister in his arms.

"It's going to be okay, all right?"

"If he wakes up and speaks..."

"We'll find a way out of this," Jaime said, kneeling before her. "We're leaving in a few hours, we'll soon be far from Winterfell. Everything will be all right, you'll see."

Tyrion knew full well that Jaime was not convinced by what he was saying, and to tell the truth Cersei was not fooled either. However, she accepted the comforting kiss he gave her and nodded softly.

The timing was bad. Tyrion finally had a chance to see the Wall, something he had wanted to do for quite some time now, but he didn't like leaving the twins alone in such a situation. They were always stronger when all three of them were together, which was very helpful in crisis situations. But what was going on right now was definitely a crisis.

He made his decision in a matter of seconds.

"I changed my mind. I won't go to the Wall. I want to stay with you."

To his surprise, Cersei and Jaime shook their heads without even exchanging a glance.

"No, you have to go," Jaime objected. "It wouldn't be right for you to miss this trip because of a mistake we made."

"But..."

"Go to the Wall, Tyrion," Cersei said, "You care so much."

He opened his mouth in protest but realized that it was useless and changed his mind. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his skull. Although he really wanted to go on this expedition to the ends of the world, he did not like the idea of leaving Cersei and Jaime alone.

"If we're discovered, your presence won't change our fate," Jaime said.

"Hmm... if I go, will you write to me? I don't want to stay without news."

"Of course."

"Good."

His gaze became more mischievous.

"You'll try not to do anything else stupid while I'm not here to watch you, won't you?"

He was happy to see that his attempt to relax the atmosphere was successful. A slight smile appeared on Cersei's lips.

"We can't promise you anything..."

Jaime tousled his hair.

"Because it's well known, we don't know how to behave when you're not around... really, Tyrion, we're so lucky to have you."

"You don't realize how much... "he replied with a resplendent smile.

This time all three of them burst out laughing.

Tyrion knew it wouldn't last, that reality would catch up with them in just a few minutes, so he savored that burst of laughter as if it were the last one to cross the barrier of his lips for a long time.

(And so it did.)

.

Cersei had managed to relax a little thanks to her brothers, but the anxiety was still very present. Almost unconsciously, her footsteps guided her to the boy's room. Catelyn was at his bedside with red eyes. She was startled when she saw him and got up in a hurry.

"Your Grace... I would have dressed... " she mumbled as she glanced at her outfit.

"You are at home, I am only your guest," she replied.

Cersei turned her attention to the child, and for the first time a flash of guilt passed through her. He was so young... he certainly didn't deserve to lose his life. He had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Despite herself, she began to think about Steffon, which was like a blow to her heart.

"I lost my first boy," she told Catelyn.

Everything came back to her as she told her story, all those things she had buried deep in her mind because thinking about them hurt her too much.

"I pray the Mother doesn't take your son away," she concluded. "Maybe this time she'll listen."

If her words were full of hypocrisy (it was the Stranger she was praying to, she implored him to take away the one who could destroy her existence and that of her loved ones with a few words), the tears that blurred her vision were very real.

One never fully recovered from the loss of a child.

Cersei quietly slipped away, head down. As she stared at Bran, an idea had occurred to her.

She knew that if he woke up and spoke, a raven would immediately be sent to King's Landing and she would have no chance to escape - the Red Keep was a prison from which she could not escape.

But if Jaime wasn't in the capital at that time, he might have a chance...

She found her twin in a corner of the courtyard.

"I want you to go with Tyrion to the Wall."

Surprised, he raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"I do not like to know Tyrion alone in these parts."

"He will not be alone, he will be with the members of the Night's Watch."

"Those savages? Don't make me laugh!"

He choked a laugh and took a look around.

"You're lucky none of them were there to hear you."

"I don't really care what they think," she said, before returning to her topic of interest. "Please, Jaime. Go with him."

But Jaime wasn't fooled: he knew her too well for that. She was so quickly brought up to speed that she wondered why she had bothered to lie.

"That's the kind of spiel you usually get in Tyrion - not that he'd believe a word of it. Are you determined to tell me the truth ?"

Cersei bit her lip.

"I'd like to know you away from King's Landing by the time this story ends... one way or another."

A strange glow lit up in Jaime's eyes when he realized what she was getting at.

"You think ... you really think I could live if you ..."

He shook his head.

"Impossible."

This thought seemed unbearable to him. Cersei resisted the urge to put a hand on his cheek - if no one could hear what they were saying, the court was swarming with people and they were clearly visible.

"Please, Jaime. Please do this for me. We promised Mother that we would protect Tyrion. How can we do that if we're both dead ?"

"Cersei..."

"Jaime."

Their gazes confronted each other for many minutes.

"What about Robert? What if he hurts you when I'm not there to protect you, to comfort you ?"

"The essence of belladonna works wonders. Everything should go well."

"And everything could go off the rails."

Cersei breathed an annoyed sigh.

"You are so stubborn !"

"And you're a fool. A beautiful golden fool," he replied with a slight tight smile.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a lioness without claws. I'll be fine."

She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him inside. The hallway was deserted so she put her arms around his neck and gave him a brief kiss before quickly moving away.

Jaime knew she wouldn't change her mind, so he finally surrendered.

"If there's the slightest problem, you send me a raven. This is non-negotiable."

She nodded and could not hide her relief.

"Thank you, Jaime."

The thought of being alone with Robert was far from pleasing her (and that was an understatement) but she had survived seventeen years of marriage. She could very well get by for a few more months. She was a Lannister, a lioness, a fighter. And the deer couldn't take her down.

"Let's go break the news to Tyrion," Jaime suggested.

He seemed determined to enjoy their last moments together, and he was right to do so, but he didn't know that yet.

.

"I'm going to miss you," Cersei sighed as they were about to part.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Tyrion said, his eyes shining. "Your life is going to be terribly dull without me."

She laughed.

"It is probable, indeed."

Robert cleared his throat behind her. He was not pleased that Jaime, a member of the Kingsguard, had taken the liberty of deserting his post for several months on a completely useless expedition, but on the other hand, being rid of the sight of this Lannister whom he hated had made him not seek to prevent it.

Cersei took the time to embrace his brothers one last time.

"It's going to be okay," she repeated. "I'll see you soon."

Their absence was already a thorn in his side, but they would be safe away from King's Landing. That was all that mattered.

"That's it, you're done ?" Robert became impatient.

Cersei stared at him coldly.

The lion didn't bow to the deer.

It was something he'd better keep in mind.


End file.
